Sanguine Cove live through this, and you won't look back

WHEN THERE'S NOTHING LEFT TO BURN

Magg supposed it was getting to be that time, when she started giving her girls just a touch more freedom. At least she didn't have to worry about birds of prey; that was one of many reasons she'd chosen a sheltered rather than open location for her whelping den, after all. There were so many other things that could still go wrong, though. No matter how much she watched, no matter how hidden away she kept them...

It was the worst feeling in the world, being a mother.

She'd spent much time laying just outside of the den, keeping it blocked with her back as she usually did, thinking it over. Until finally, Magg came to a decision.

With a world-weary sigh, she hoisted herself up onto her paws and stepped away from the opening that kept the two most precious things in the world within. Magg stared, second guessed, and then relented. With a chuffing noise especially used to get the twins' attention, she hoped to entice them out into the world.

YOU HAVE TO SET YOURSELF ON FIRE

Life was meant to be plural. At least, that's what Aven had been able to surmise in her short time on this Earth. The cub had never known anything else, and so she had no reason to believe that there was any other way. From her earliest moments of consciousness, to this moment right here, there had always been two. Their mother came and went, adding and subtracting to their number each time she entered or exited the den, but she was the outlier, not the rule.

Thus, when Magg called for the pair, Aven did not wantonly crash over the threshold. Instead, she waited for her sister at the precipice between the world she'd always known and the one she had only ever dreamed about. They would cross the threshold together or not at all, and in the cub's mind, that was final.

It had been a productive morning for once. Nash had made the rare find of a relatively untouched deer carcass just beyond their borders, not far from the lake shore. It had clearly only been dead for a day, maybe two, and the carrion birds had yet to do more than poke at the eyes. After having a bit to eat himself, Nash pulled and twisted until he got one of the back legs free, a sizeable chunk of meat. He would come back for more later; for now, he would bring the meal to his eldest and her brood.

As he approached, he noted Magg standing a little back from the den entrance, looking at it expectantly. He placed the hock down nearby and moved to stand beside her, briefly touching the top of her head with his nose in an affectionate greeting. Something moved just inside the den, but no pups emerged just yet. "Is it that time already?" he asked his daughter, sitting to watch and eagerly await the moment he would get to meet his first grandchildren.