He is asleep, relieved after their bonding and Natu’s growing swollen with birthing promise. It feels like the slow encroachment of his age could be hampered when he was with her, when he lived instead of remembered. His being in touch with Taliesin made him realize that love did not heal all wounds, but that forgiveness could overcome them. He also realized that cherishing what was now was more important than living on the regret.

He would visit Doe soon, he thought, but he knew better than to think that his imprint of long ago would make him feel whole again. After the cliff, the ambush, years believing her dead -- he would never be whole again.

Tucked beside her, it is easy that he is woken up, Natu’s voice being so very insistent. Go with your father now, that is what she says that lets him know there was something amiss -- or glorious, as it may be -- about to happen. Somehow he knows these children would be his last - the last of his legacy.

He nudges the pups of a year past out by their behinds, shoveling them out when he had to, and then he circles back to the mouth of the den - throwing up a howl to the stars to tell their healer to come, help his mate, check her in a way he had no understanding of.

“Children,” he asks in earnest, “Go find Haziel… He will know what to do if something goes wrong---” Just in case, of course, it was not as though the wolf was deaf -- but he is interrupted, “Fen, come help me.”

“I am coming, my Star.” he encourages, creeping back in and seeing the three young pups wriggling in beside their mother. “Oh, my beautiful Natu, they are so wonderful.” He whispers with a whine. “What shall we name them, I wonder? Three lovely daughters as brilliant and strong as their mother!” He licks up the side of her cheek and nuzzles into her scruff as he anxiously waits for Haziel’s arrival.