Recovery had been swift but even when her body had returned to its former self, she was still confined within the den for much of the day. It was that fact that bothered her the most though she could not fault the children for it - she understood they required her to do so until their bodies matched their souls but it didn't make the bother any less. Onias had been diligent and perhaps it was only because of him that she had it within herself to stay in that very den for his offerings stopped her from roaming to hunt or to venture off after the moon. In any case, she had become thankful for them, hoarding away pieces of what he had left behind; a rabbit bone here, a dried petal that had been brought from the woods in the rabbit's fur, leaf litter, it didn't matter what. She hoarded them away so that her children would be able to play with his gifts when the time came.

Their time would come but in the shadow of the night, she wondered when hers might come too. She had yet to formally call for Onias, patient as she could be, but when she found his scent so lightly on the breeze, she could not stop herself from letting out the quietest of howls. She had been waiting, after all, for more than just one reason, as she often did. Of course, she was eager to simply bask in his mystery again, but she was just as eager for him to meet their shared blood in this realm - and it was that shared blood that had made her eager to see him too. The children had been growing, but one - one she was sure was certainly his kin - had failed to thrive as they did. Beltane had tended to her well enough, coaxing her to more food and warmth and ensuring her sisters did not bundle up atop her too often but still...Beltane knew something else was needed. It seemed, she thought, as if she had not entirely made her way into the realm of the living yet. Part of her still needed to come forth...

And Onias would know how to do it, Beltane knew. So when his voice finally distracted her from her thoughts and the whispers of the moors, she did not wait long before she scrambled towards the den's maw. She partially emerged, standing almost equal with him once (her den, after all, had not been dug entirely down into the earth as many others) more as she drew in a deep breath, inhaling his very essence before she lowered her nose down to the wreath with a satisfied ah! Perhaps he had known? Perhaps he had been able to sense that he was needed, that his protection and energy was something to be kept close by. "Mmmm, we have all been waiting. Patiently, yes, patiently but eagerly." She bared her teeth in a lopsided, lazy grin before she began to slip out of the den entirely. It was a relief after so long to do so, her body stretching like a snake as she poured out onto the reeds and loam, paws flexed in the soil. She motioned towards him then, beckoned him towards the den's maw so that they might be able to peer down on the pups and bring them forth as needed; she gave him a moment to observe as she carefully took the wreath and placed it further atop the rocky mound they lived within. It would do better there, she thought, to watch down on them when the time came for them to venture out.

But then she turned her attention to the children and he again. She moved aside him, delicate and gentle in her movements until she could feel his warmth by her side. "There is one that needs our help. She is not fully here. Not yet, no. She needs us to guide her." She met his eyes and nodded slowly, assured he would know what she spoke of. Surely together they would mend her child and, in time, provide them with names most suitable.