Spring arrived slowly on Tinuvel, hiding signs of its coming in the most inconspicuous places. Glittering drops on the edges of icicles, the steady plop-plop-plop of bits of snow dislodging from high branches. The vibrant green leaves of early spring flowers appearing where the snow was thinnest, accentuating the tiny buds appearing on the low-lying brush and the vibrant green of new pine growth. It was strange to recall those signs, to recall her own dam finding and eagerly pointing them out. Arael had, of course, tied these signs into her own beliefs about Etheria; claiming that the return of Etheria's light was bringing the world back to life.

Or, you know, the seasons changed and there was more sunlight for the plants to use.

Now, spring was all but gone and summer loomed on the horizon. The temperatures had already begun to rocket upward, leaving only the darkest hours as comfortable for the not-so-slender mother-to-be. She had begun to find respite in the quiet early hours, only this morning she found herself more restless, her thoughts on her mother.

Corvette didn't often miss Arael. They had only been close when Corvette was small and naive. Once she had gotten a little older, their relationship had shifted. She remained a dutiful daughter to keep the peace, but she found little joy in the game of pretend. Losing her mother had been hard, but also freeing in a way. Now, however, with the prospect of her own first child looming large in her mind, Corvette wished her mother was there. It would have been nice to have someone to keep watch over her, to keep her company for her first time. The thought of asking someone in the herd to watch over her seemed silly, and yet, as she paced in the wee hours of early morning with labor pangs squeezing the sides of her wide belly, she couldn't bear the thought of being alone.

The sky above was near black as she tiptoed her way toward the herd, the small prickles of starlight lending little light for her to see by now that the moon was cloaked by thick clouds that promised the potential of summer storms. She could not see who it was that she nearly ran into, but they smelled of the Bay and so she whickered quietly in the night. "Hello?" She swallowed, the sound feeling obscenely loud in the silent night. "Sorry to wake you...I know this is a strange thing to ask," she began, heat flushing her cheeks as her muscles began to tighten, threatening another contraction. "But is there any chance you could, just, keep me company while I... while I do this?"