Sing of Secret Sorrow

The pair settled down in the sand and sipped at their drinks. Belle commented on every party having a pooper and Iolaire laughed aloud. "Yes, but there are so many over there. The Armada is supposed to be warriors, not little healers and foundlings." She smirked. "Myself not included, of course."

She then listened as Deathbelle spoke of Ashen having settled well. She then spoke of Pestilence and having some issues with her. "She's visited me a few times. She's a smart girl... she's just very jaded. I'm sure as she gets older, she'll find some balance." Pesto just had to get rid of her self-doubt and learn that, in order to grow, one had to work hard at it.

It seemed that her former lover was saddened by the prospect of her children leaving. Iolaire had no children and so she couldn't really understand, but she did understand the want to have a full den. "Perhaps some of them will stay close to home. Not all pups have wanderlust within them." Perhaps Hannibal would do his job and give Belle another litter. What was the hold up?

Taking another sip of her mead, Iolaire rolled the gourd between her paws in the sand, creating a natural drink holder. The gourd sat upright and she was pleased. "How are things with Hannibal? Any chance that your den might be full again soon?" Iolaire doubted that she'd be able to look at those puppies either. She'd been keeping her distance from Zee and her children. It hurt too much to see something that she wanted but could never have.