The children were growing, crashing head-first into their awkward phases with ears and limbs that seemed just a little too long. She knew that it wouldn't last long, and that soon they would be nearly indistinguishable from the rest of their pack mates. Aside from the five children that they'd somehow managed to raise, things were quiet. Celandine wasn't sure whether the lack of obstacles made her feel unsettled or peaceful, and that in and of itself was bothersome enough. Was this the calm before the storm, or had they weathered enough for a lifetime? Maybe she had gotten too used to the chaos, the uncertainty, that when it was gone, she was left waiting with baited breath for something. Briefly, the queen wondered if Morganna felt the same.
A raindrop crashed against the length of her muzzle, and then she knew. The calm before the storm.