The smartest fool, the dumbest sage, are singing in the back

Thick frost already lay thick across the ground this far north, the antiseptic scent of pine permeated the air as she strolled through the sparsely scattered pine trees. Brown needles matted the ground and a scattering of cones littered the floor, some popped open to drop their seeds from the summers that had passed before, others still clamped up tight. Now, Deluge was no seer, but she could assume her parents would be having more pups soon, it was her mother's season for it after all. Perhaps she should gather up some pinecones for the little blighters to cut their teeth on? And if not, well she was sure Ken could make something pretty of them.

“Speech”