So, I Think I Might Be Pregnant...

As soon as Fern and Rudy had returned to the castle, and after the greetings had finished, the tired, travel-worn pair had returned to their room. They had thrown open the balcony doors to allow the wonderful autumn in, fluffed up the furs on their bed, climbed in and promptly fell asleep. It has been in the late afternoon when they had crashed and Fern does not crack open her sleep crusted eyes open until the early morning hours.

A yawn splits her maw and she reaches a up to swipe away the gunk in the corners of her eyes as she slowly sits up to cast her gaze around their room. Her pale lips pull into a smile at the familiar sights, Puff happily snoring away in her basket, Savage asleep in his. Reddy, asleep on the wooden perch, who blinks open her eyes as Fern shifts on the bed. A paw immediately flies to the grey woman’s lips and the hawk swiftly closes her eyes.

Letting out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, Fern carefully slides off the bed and grabs her sword before stealthy moving to the door. Casting a glance back at Rudyard’s slumbering form, she blows him a silent kiss before slipping out into the hallway and down the familiar corridor. Her paws know the route to the training grounds well and she wastes no time making her way there.

It feels great to get back into the old routine, the day to day life of living in the castle and she allows herself to get lost in her training. However, despite what her husband may think, Fern knows her limits and does not strain herself. She stops after only half an hour but at least it is something. Grabbing her sword, the sore woman slowly waddles her way back to the castle, eager to grab a ton of food and to rest her round belly in a comfortable position.

Pale paws cross into the grand foyer but Fern hesitates turning left to go into the great hall. Eyes wander to the other hall as she remembers that she had promised Rudyard that she would get a checkup with his sister, Gwynevere. Turning right, the gray woman makes her way to the infirmary and steps into the healing ward. The medicinal smell of herbs hit her nose and bring memories of her mother’s smiling face flooding into her ming. Blinking back a sudden bout of tears, the gray woman calls out softly, “Gwynevere?” If she isn’t here then maybe she can just slip away without getting a checkup.


"Fern Carpathius"