Sisters were trouble. Sisters were always trouble. He thinks of his sisters quietly, wondering where they’ve gotten off to. He wonders where Orca is, where Cael is. Haven is here. Dany is here. They aren’t less relevant, but they’re… they’re not… there’s something special that he’s always had with Orca. That’s what happens when you’re too attached to your mother, when you’re always around and at her side. That’s what happens when you grow to resent your father and realize that you’ve screwed yourself over too late. It was funny. Everything was funny to him now, in a sick way. He wouldn’t think of it, though. He wouldn’t remind himself that he was a little sick, a little different. Healers weren’t allowed to be sick. Right.

So he’s been watching Haven as her sides grow round, watching her mate come in and out of her den. Watching, waiting, as he does with the other expectant mothers of the pack. He will check on her when the time comes. He will check on her when she needs it most, and he will appear with a mouthful of whatever he feels is necessary at the time.

And the time comes. Chunk of root hanging from his mouth, poppy seeds held carefully in his teeth, prepared for whatever he needs to be. To the mouth of the den he comes, head low, peering in to see his younger sister and her mate. A stranger. Two strangers, really, but it was fine. Honestly, it would have been easier with a stranger. This is too much. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Right. Family. This was family.

”Knock knock, Haven. It’s me, Swallowbane.” Right, dumbass, of course it’s you. Why the hell was this so hard? “Came to check on you, see if you needed me to do the whole healer-thing.” His tail wags, head poking in just slightly. If her mate decided now was the time to rip his face off, well, Bane wasn’t sure he’d blame the man.