She slipped out of the den a bit later than usual. The sun had already risen into the sky but not high enough to signal she had slept in terribly late. Her swollen form neared the edge of the water after escaping the patch of rugged trees that housed the dens. She blinked as she was overcome by the brightness of the world. The Santoro had half a mind to go back to sleep. Things seemed mostly under control now. No spats between members (that she was openly aware of) and no one calling at the borders. She figured others had picked up where she had slacked off. Piety had to admit that the wolves of the Tarn seemed like a working bunch, more than she had expected them to be.
Her pale form turned away from the water as she mindlessly began to wander. She should stretch her legs some before returning back to her private den. It wouldn't do her good to be cooped up when there was surely still 'plenty' of time left before the birth.
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