The time had passed relatively peaceful as the seasons bled into the other. Summer had seen the children up and moving around more, rolling outside of the den often with mock growls permeating the air, and Aithne had deemed them safe enough that she could stretch her legs more often. Praetor was a keen mate, always watching the pups, always helping when Aithne grew frustrated. It was not that she meant to - she found a space inside of her that was filled with love. Such a strange feeling for such helpless beings but it was there and she had been rather over protective at first, hovering with each new endeavor they sought to put themselves in. As the days passed, though, she grew less concerned about the daily bumps and bruises. Apparently it was to be expected with children, their high energy natures making such a thing commonplace. She did worry about Lazarus still; Aster grew at exponential speed, her body already filling out in a somewhat less stalwart manner than her mothers but still robust. Her son was much slower at this - he grew, but not nearly as fast and not nearly as much.

She had begun to start feeding them regurgitated food, growling at Aster when the girl became over-eager and reminding her that there were two, not just one, to be fed. Both of her children would grow to be grand, she had decided, despite any physical limitations. Praetor assured her with extra diligence that Lazarus would be fine and besides, she was lucky to have such a healthy litter, especially her first round. That they had survived was another accomplishment; where she had come from, the time between puppyhood and adulthood was short lived and sometimes, not lived at all.

Aster had found Pine early in the morning and eagerly took off to her adventures. The one thing Aithne found disconcerting about this was that Aster was not in immediate reach and it was like pulling teeth for her to finally agree, a low hum of a growl in her chest a demonstration of her displeasure - a reminder to her daughter that if anything happened she would get punishment for disobedience. Aithne had struck out soon after and hunted down a few pheasants, enjoying two of the plump birds and carrying a fourth back to the den to share with her mate.

The day is hot and the locusts buzz and there is an oppressive feeling. Emerald eyes lift as she scents the wind, ears pricking as she glances towards the west to spy the tell-tale signs of darkness in the sky of a summer frenzy to come. She would have to fetch her daughter back in a few hours lest the girl be caught in the deluge and claim it was killing her. The fond memory makes her lips twitch as she ducks into the coolness of her den, dropping the pheasant near the entrance and finding the figure of Lazarus still within.

"Lazarus," she says in surprise, assuming he had asked to go with his father today for Praetor often took him on walks. Aithne had taken him before but perhaps she worried overmuch at how tired he grew at times and limited his range. "Did you not wish to go out and play today? I can take you to your sister and Pine if you wish," her hoarse voice asks, tilting her head to the side and sniffing the head of her only son. While she was not as overly affectionate as some mothers there is always a care in her actions, constantly checking to make sure they were alright, warning them to be careful, grooming them after a long day of frolicking. Close and not too far, she thinks, and she isn't sure if she was following those rules but for now, her own choices seemed to be working well.

Nine - Empress of Iromar - fated for Praetor

aithne