downfall of us all

Winter was slowly coming to the lands of Alacritis. Autumn was here, and yet it was on the verge of departure already -- the once brilliant landscape was slowly losing its color, no longer dappled with oranges and yellows and res, but instead the frost had begun to seep into the earth and turn everything a dull brown. And with the changing of season, came other changes, and truthfully the Queen of Seracia wanted nothing more than everything to return to how it had been at the beginning of the season.

She was beginning to show signs of pregnancy. Once again, her belly was slightly distended, and her scent had changed subtly. It was not obvious from a great distance, but up close all the signs were there. Part of her was eager to meet her children, and she was quite grateful that she lacked the nervousness that had accompanied her first pregnancy; she'd had no idea how it would be to really be a mother. Now, Epiphron was certain she could handle children, even if it was burdensome and stressful. But she lacked the excitement she knew she ought to have felt, but she was determined to not let it show -- especially to her children now, who were still unaware of the fact that siblings would soon be given more brothers and sisters.

A sigh left her lips. She was content to be alone for now, and as she slowly made her way toward the lake, she would let the proverbial crown slip from the skull and she would nearly collapse at the water's edge, curling up on her belly and letting her head rest on her forepaws. It took all she had to hold back tears. Never was she an emotional woman, never too expressive -- and yet she couldn't help it now. She felt like she was failing Seracia. She had lost two wolves after sending them to aid Valhalla, and though she trusted Syrinx would try to return them to her, she couldn't help but feel as though she was the one to blame.