This wasn't how Inger had planned things, but then again she hadn't even been given the time to try and reassemble after her supposed mate had utterly dismantled the life she thought she was building. If it hadn't been for the drought, maybe she would have stood a chance. As things were, between her wounds and the virtual vanishing of all water, the wolf was practically living on borrowed time. But, as long as they made it...
Her mind was fuzzy and her body ached. When she at last breathed in the scents of others, all she could think to do was follow. Her labor was well underway, but having them in the open without anyone to watch her back, to make sure he didn't come back and, and... Inger cried out, trying to garner this pack's attention.
"Hjelp," she asked the tall, dark trees that blurred inside her vision, "vær så snill, mine barn..."