Tithe had been right - the cave had melted away come the spring, a spoiled moment of beauty that she had been reluctant to leave despite the thinning ice and wet ground. Yet, she had been correct too - they would find a place just as good and that she had done. By the borders of the forests, she had dug them out a fox hole, deep and warm and yet, it was not beautiful in any case. Rather, she had chosen it for another reason - see, as night fell across the plains of Asteraia, the skies were suddenly dark with clouds of bats and birds, their sounds alive in the fading light. Perhaps Tithe could not watch them from the peaks of Spirane any longer but he could watch them from a more modest place, a place alongside her. It had a poetry to it that she did not believe herself capable of. Something had stirred within her to spark it, she thought - life.

She had suspected it early. It was unusual for her to be so ravenous, so fiercely needy of food, and even stranger that her fur had barely began to thin come the spring. Something demanded she stay well fed and warm despite the change of season and that something drove her to her mother's embrace at the foot of the mountain. It took only her mother's ear pressed against her flank ton confirm her suspicions. Ah, she had discovered just how things worked. From that moment on, she had done all she could to ensure they had a suitable start to life; a secure place to grow, forested and protected but easily navigated; the den rested neatly between two packs, a safety net to ward off predators; she had feasted well, caching rats and meat beneath the dirt some yards from the den. In any case, she refused to allow her first experience to be a failure, or even less than ideal.

One thing she had not accounted for was the birth itself however. It had been wrong, she thought, to request her mother keep her distance unless summoned! The pain, or rather, the discomfort. She thought she might prefer pain, at least then she could cry out or bite down on something but never did it reach such an extreme. Instead, it teetered on the brink, never enough to make her cry out as she paced about the den, alternating between panting and laying to exiting the den and pacing with low growls of annoyance. Over and over until something seemed to break.

With that, she had crawled in the den, surprised and startled by the sudden change in feeling. Then, it had caught her off guard. Nothing seemed to compare to it - or to the sound that followed. The moment she ripped open the membranes that secured the pair - both seemingly desperate to exit her at the same time, fighting for the role of firstborn it seemed - they began to scream. They were loud! She had not expected it and in instinct, despite her discomfort still, she laid atop them, burying them momentarily in her thick fur before they silenced themselves with food.

And so, that would be how she stayed for some time - awkwardly crouching atop them as if hunting, staring up out of the den with a bewildered expression as she attempted to make sense of the entire event. Though it had been hours perhaps, it had only felt like moments. She was tired and yet, she refused to sleep, too on guard from their screaming to believe they would be left alone. Until she was sure they were quiet, she'd embrace her role as a warrior, a guardian, a champion. Or, well, she might just fall asleep on top of them. At least they'd be warm and secure, well fed at that. She hadn't even the time to properly look at them!