It seemed that no matter how bright the days were, darkness always returned surely and swiftly each night. Nayeli tried to defy it, as was her nature, but she could never quite seem to escape it. She took solace in what moments she could with the others, but each moment held an air of urgency for her that she could not place, or let go of. Threats seemed to loom vaguely overhead, even as the sun rained down and the forest gilded itself in finery all around them. And then, the night always returned. It was hard to really give herself over fully to her interactions – she felt adrift. Did they see it? She tried to anchor herself again and again. In recent days she really only felt like herself when she slipped off, despite her growing size, turning her attention preparing not only one den, but two, nestled in different locations in the Bend's deep woods. One was the same place she had given birth to Darrah and Zera, the other was tucked secretively away in a thicket beneath an ancient oak's roots. So far she had only shown to Triell. She wanted to have a back up plan, just in case something happened.

Her pregnancy with Darrah and Zera had been frightening in its newness, but everything had gone well in the end. This time, things had been much the same, at first. Her hunger grew and her belly grew too, little flurries and motions of life making themselves apparent. Her foreleg was healed up quite well, though the flesh where Skadi had marked her was a still somewhat tender new scar, she was pleased to be feeling healthier than she had in months, despite her bloatedness. Everything felt a little more familiar, but this time around, she had other things on her mind. So long as her pregnancy proceeded normally, she could let her worries run elsewhere, and take a bit of comfort in that fact at least. And everything had gone just as she expected, up until now.

It had all started quite normally, too – the loss of appetite that day which warned her to go to the den where her first litter had been born as evening fell and seclude herself. She stood for a moment at the den's entrance and let out a call, so that Triell would know the time had come. Then the night had fallen, in the wee hours, the small, tensing pains had come. They grew more frequent and deeper, but they weren't unbearable. And then, just a short time before dawn struck, there was a new life in the world - a little black female pup. Nayeli turned to nuzzle her newborn daughter towards her belly, washing her clean and encouraging her small but demanding cries, even as the pain grew. Curling more tightly, then stretching out, she was aware that something felt wrong. Her little girl was already suckling, but Nayeli found herself rolling away in discomfort. The pain was much greater this time, and she quite wasn't sure how long it lasted. She was exhausted when it passed, but at last it did - the boy, a little larger than his sister, was born hind feet first. Pushing herself up again, she nudged at new son's form, gently licking him, in awe of his startlingly white coat even as a new panic washed over her. He didn't seem to be breathing.

She licked and nudged at him with a desperate, instinctive urgency now, not quite sure what she was doing but doing it anyway – cleaning his little face, rubbing his belly and chest roughly with her tongue. An eternity seemed to pass in that next moment, but at last she heard the sound of his tiny breath, and, awash with relief, guided him to where his sister had already once again found her way to suckling. Half-light had begun to color the shadowy depths of the den, now. She let her head fall, watching them through tired eyes, and let out a long-due sigh. He seemed content enough now, next to his sister, opposite in color and a little larger in size but equal in hunger. Everything was... going to be okay. She would make sure of it.