Lord have mercy on us all

There would be no saving them now, it was time for the little heathens to leave the den.

Modesty left their underground den first, relishing the bracing winter breeze as she bowed down to stretch, her spine popping and paws extending to rake through the rich soil. This far south they would hardly expect more than a flurry or two, for which she was eternally gratefully. Shaking her coat until loose strands glittered like motes in the early morning sunlight, she moved to a skin she had Kenway's dogs lay out and unceremoniously flopped down, angled to watch the children as they emerged into the outside world for the first time.

"speech"