Nights within the cave had always been cold; but deeper within the caves in the birthing room she had picked- they were much more so. Each night since the birth of her children, Achilles had to practically lay on top of them just to keep them warm. She’d much rather allow herself to freeze than her pups.
She was hungry, too. Only ever leaving the pups to get cache food when the room was warm enough that they wouldn’t die of cold… Which wasn’t very often. When the conditions proved well enough to leave, however; she would rush off to the cache, bringing back just enough food to last her another day or so. Then it was back to incubating the helpless heaps of fur beside her.
How long had it been since they’d been born? A week, perhaps? Maybe even a few days more. Achilles knew well enough that their sight and hearing wouldn’t come for another few days, but she spent a vast majority of her time whispering stories of adventure and glory to their still-deaf ears. This was… Mostly for her sake, however. It fueled her thoughts. It kept her sane.
And now, in the ever-cold hours before dawn, It’s exactly what she did. Whispering softly, solemnly, protectively in the dead of night. Blissfully unaware of anything that may or may not be happening outside of her chamber. Blissfully shutting down any straying thought of Whiskey.
Oct 16, 2017 04:41 PM
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