all hands on deck

Motif sat up in her den, something stirring in her breast for the first time in what felt like forever. She had refused to go home, knowing the expressions of pity and understanding would have broken her. So she had stayed, listless and healing in the Fireside pack. She had been able to use the excuse of her bear wounds to hole up in her den and nurse the far more pressing pain of her broken heart. In her mad dash to Fireside, she hadn’t had time to mourn her mate, the father of her stillborn children. Here, she had nothing to do but remember.

Jupiters desperate plea was welcomed more than he could ever know. A mother who had lost her children, and children who had lost their mother? They were made for each other. So she sat up, blinking in the dim light of the den, and felt hope stirring inside of her for the first time. When Valentine scratched at the entrance, she was there a second later. Looking at the bundled babies in his arms. “Valentine” she said, almost breathlessly. Her healing wounds were still visible in her fur, but there was a sudden strength to her gaze. “This is them?” she asked their bawling voices already answering her. At least there was strength to their lunges. “This is their first meal?” she asked, a healer as well as a... pair of boobs, as Jupiter had put it. “I will need some things, Valentine.” as she gave him space to settle them beside her. “Alfalfa, and Watercress” she said, thinking quickly. She would need to ensure she was able to supply good, healthy milk to these little ones.


"Motif Destruction"