March 23rd; Afternoon; Overcast; 52° F/11° C
She was getting close, she just knew it. For the past few days, every time she paced by that particular boulder, that particular stick, that particular fallen log, that particular depression of mud... Taima felt as though she had been beside it only some time before. Well, not just, say, a few days ago or a month ago, but years ago when a part - maybe this part, where she currently resided just past the Cut Rock River pack's borders - of Cedarwood Forest had belonged to her mother and father. It had only taken a moment's thought when she stared at a certain tree with her head tilted to one side that she recognized it. This certain tree had been the one that she had once sought refuge under while she collected herself after meeting @Datura Aquila for the first time. Beneath its boughs, she sat in her damp fur with a girlish smile spread across her masked face.
The golden prince had been handsome, even then, and the way he had saved her from the agitated "stinky" (something the cub Taima later learned was a "skunk") had stolen her heart. She had been blinded by his greatness, his chivalry and winsome ways outshining the wraith of a man who had been her imaginary friend and suitor for so long. Now nearing the end of her pregnancy (at 57 days in and, unknowingly, 5 days left to endure), she had no choice but to waddle over to the landmark. It bore nothing but its usual scents - the aroma of new growth and the sticky, sweet scent of sap - but the young Lyall still fancied the notion that once upon a time, her parents had marked the tree with their own signature scents.
She was about to sit down and relive the moment of smelling like skunk and fawning over her beloved prince when she saw it. There. On a tree that was far more familiar than the one she had thought of settling down under. A very obvious mark that was made by the lord and lady of Grizzly Hollow. She eagerly approached it, bearing herself - protruding belly and all - on her hind legs just long enough to gauge that it really had been one of her parents who had scarred the old cedar. Two years ago, as a cub, she had never been able to reach the imprint in the trunk where its bark had been scraped away; it tugged at her heartstrings now that she was able to.
My, how the time had flown by...
She remembered Renier in the forest and how large and hunky he had become despite the hardships the previous winter had subjected all of Relic Lore to. With a soft thud on the forest floor, she sat back down on the carpet of pine needles, left to stare at the telltale sign that, at long last, she, the heiress of Grizzly Hollow, had come home...