She had the experience now to know that the time had come, that her desire to hole up in the den meant that the cubs were soon to come, and that the pain rippling down her sides marked the beginning of it all. She wasn't sure what these cubs would mean for her and Viorel, what they would mean for the rest of her children, but it was far too late for such doubts.
She found herself twisting and turning inside the den, unable to get comfortable no matter which way she contorted herself. Vanadis wondered if the anxiety would ever abate, if after the third or fourth litter one would be calm in these moments, but as her heartbeat finally rose to a crescendo, the woman tilted her muzzle to the sky and called for him.