At first, Sleekwing had been overwhelmed with a sense of elation. When Malina had agreed to create life with him again, to grant him the family he had so long desired but never been able to have, nothing could clip the wings of happiness upon which he soared. But with time he became grounded again, and as winter wore on he began to sense the slight resentment that his imprint felt throughout her pregnancy. For him to be the prominent father figure in these children's lives, Malina had agreed to speak to her mate about stepping back from the direct raising of this litter. Unbeknownst to Sleekwing at first, this had actually resulted in Rogue leaving Moladion for some time. It had not been what he wanted, and clearly it did not affect Malina well as she became more withdrawn as the days of her pregnancy drew closer to an end. And so Sleekwing had given her the space she seemed to want, visiting to offer food or company if she desired it, but otherwise keeping his distance. He was torn, unsure what to do or how to make her happy. There was a level of trust between them, but he was not her mate.

Sturdy gray paws carried him along the periphery of his mountainous homelands, pacing the borders as the head defender of the realm was often want to do. Strangely, as he followed the familiar paths to ensure the security of the pack, he found his mind wandering to the shewolf of creamy brown and golden hues that he had saved from certain death over the winter. From time to time he wondered after what had become of her, if she was safe and thriving now that spring had arrived. He hoped she was well. And then, all at once, a tugging sensation in the pit of his stomach made him stop in his tracks. Gray ears pricked forward and his cobalt blue eyes ringed in lavender turned to look up into the vast mountain range. The shift in Malina's mental and physical state gave life to the wings painted upon his sides as he took off, loping up familiar trails that would bring him to her den.

As he ran, fleet paws carrying him swiftly across his homeland, his heart raced. He would not be kept from the den this time, left outside to wonder after the health of his imprint and children alike. But the pains - and subsequent relief - he felt as he traversed the landscape told him he would not be present for the actual births of his youngest children. He tried not to let this bother him, knowing that perhaps Malina would prefer to privacy in moments such as those anyways. At long last he arrived at the den, tail thrashing out behind him in an anxious display as he slowed, making his way towards the mouth of the den. His footsteps grew tentative as he approached, remembering vividly the way that he had barely been able to peer within the den from outside when Alcmene, Los, and Mana had been born. Gathering his innate courage, he closed the distance and stepped into the den. Immediately his gaze fell upon Malina, and his ears relaxed backwards at the beacon of comfort that the white ear atop her skull offered. "Malina," he breathed softly, worried for her wellbeing even though she seemed to have come through the labor without any problems. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and embrace her, to touch his nose to her face and offer her comfort. But he refrained, instead simply letting his gaze linger upon her face for a moment to ensure she was well before his attention was drawn to the two squirming bodies at her belly.

His head lowered towards them, nostrils flaring to inhale the delicacy of their newborn scents. In these moments the rest of the world ceased to exist; Malina and the children nestled in the warmth of her bodice were his world. From their position cuddled into their mother, he could distinguish the dark dorsal stripe that ran along one pup's back, and the fairer hue of the other. Already he thought they were perfect, just as their elder children were. But then the pup with the dorsal stripe squalled and twisted, rolling herself over and exposing herself to her father for the first time. Sleekwing's breath caught, his heart leaping into this throat. The light gray of her fur was interrupted by a white mask upon her face, a heart-shaped mask that proceeded to trail down her throat and chest. It was like looking into the face of a memory, of a dream. Even though her eyes were squeezed shut and her face was wrinkled with the stoutness of puppyhood, there was no mistaking the similarities. "Malina...she...she is the picture of my mother. I...she..." He was at an utter loss for words, lowering his snout to her and gently pushing her back to lay beside her brother, and it was his son's equally stunning appearance that finally allowed him to tear his gaze away from his youngest daughter. For a moment his gaze lingered upon the two, unable to express the welling of pride and love in his chest with words.

It was the presence of a foreign scent slowly drafting into the den that made his hackles bristle and his gaze lift suddenly away from the newborns. An unfamiliar voice keened for Malina by name. Before he even thought to wait for a reaction from Malina, the father of the newborns slipped out of the den, lips pulled back in a silent warning. Who was this wolf? She barely smelled of Moladion, let alone distinctly of another pack, and so he protectively put himself between her and the den's mouth. Bloodshed was the last thing that he wanted on the birth day of his new children, but he would do anything to protect those he cared for.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice stern. Whether she meant harm or not in these moments did not matter. A stranger had entered Spirane unaccompanied and unannounced, and now she stood before the den that housed his imprint and children. He would do anything to ensure the safety of his pack - but even time and space could not limit what he would do to protect the three lives that lay within the den at his back.