It has ever been an odd thing to feel the same emotions that broil within Praetor. There is a sense of coming home each time she touches him, surrounded by his warmth and care. He carries with him infinite patience, Aithne thinks, for he has never demanded from her things that she was not yet ready to give. They had both known that this was a possible outcome of their time spent together. Aithne had tried not to ponder on it in the moment, her mind forced to overcome the barrier that had held them back for so long, and she had found that strength within herself to let it go. Let the memory of that dead male go and with it her fury and fear; now there was a new thing to deal with. Motherhood would be a strange road to explore. Would the children be pernicious little brats that she would have to coddle? Or independent souls, way ward and absolute? She guessed parentage had a little to do with it but some wolves - well, there was no reason for the way they were. It just happened.

Praetor would be galled at her thoughts, she muses, her grumpiness making her envision terrible pups who squealed and squawked at everything. Whiners, the lot of them, and she would have to hold back her annoyance to a damning degree. Emerald eyes glance down upon the crown of Praetor's head and her irritation at these imagined memories eases. He will teach them patience and quiet. What will she teach them? She would just have to look at it as if she was Minos once more, teaching a whining Siren and trying to pick apart her mind. That thought sobered her since the outcome of Siren's life had not been a pleasurable one.

She can feel the moment he awakens completely because the bond informs her of his increasing joy. He had longed for a family and she was providing it, even if she was less than certain of the outcome of such a thing, but she grew calmer beneath the onslaught of his emotions. Praetor had that way about him - calming the raging beast inside. "I know," she grumbles softly, her lips pulling into a tired smile, because with Praetor it would all be okay. Somehow she would make it through this and better not to think on how bad the children COULD be when she had yet to meet them.

His touch is met with a press of her own, his love overpowering, but that does not distract her from the mention of food. A growl erupts from her - or was that her belly? She couldn't be sure as she stands once more. "Yes, something big I think. Fat. I feel these pups will be the cause of much contention for the next season for me." It is said with a grumble of reluctance but also amusement, flashing him a look as she scuttles out of the den. "You pick... I'm afraid I can't be trusted to settle on any one thing." Mother hood cravings, you know.

Seven - Empress of Iromar - fated for Praetor

aithne