Raisa was tired. So, so tired. She'd assumed it was just their excursion taking it out of her, and all the excitement of giving and getting good news, even perhaps the chaos of the plague, but they'd been home some time now. And still, she only seemed to feel worse in the last weeks of her pregnancy, and that's all she really had to chalk it up to. Nothing was wrong, she wasn't sick, and things were simpler now that spring had broken. Life was returning back to normal.

Her back hurt, all the time. Her whole body, really, but she felt like she was carrying an army of puppies. She peed every thirty seconds, her stomach was sensitive where the fur had thinned. Even her nipples were so full of milk now they were twice as tender, and nothing was comfortable; not laying down in any position, not sitting, not standing. She was hungry allllllll the time, with wildly swinging cravings from bird to fish to deer, and it was all hard to keep down no matter how badly she wanted it - sometimes, just the smell made her ill.

She couldn't wait till the little shits were evicted, frankly. She was tired, but she was excited.

So viciously excited.

A loving mate at her side, Shreya home safe, Serafina and Carnifex still at her back, a group around her to fall back on and find comradery with. Everything felt.... so close to perfect.
She just wanted to meet them.

Would they look more like Bogart , with soft, squishy faces? Her own was not so long or slender as full-blooded wolves, but being a mix herself, she didn't know what to expect in terms of these babes. Could they look like Cirilla? Or full blown wolves? Would they have her tail that never laid all the way straight? Her stripes? Her color? Bo's patches? His floppy ears? Lighter, more silver, like Serafina?
She didn't think it even mattered. They could look more like Shreya or Carnifex and she'd not bat an eye. These babies she and Bo had made, they were already perfect. They'd grow up perfect, whatever lives they wanted to lead. They'd live and die perfect.

Raisa hadn't left the ravine much since coming home, unless it was to fetch something for the den. Collecting mosses, feathers, pelts, and anything else soft she could think of; kneading it all into a nest fit for her little princes and princesses. She couldn't say that out loud, could she? Frankly, the corner of the den was padded enough now for Her, Bogart, and whatever Rodion spawn that were going to pop in the next... days? Week or two? It couldn't be long now. She was still showing Bo more tidbits about hunting, trying to help him hone his own survival skills -- he was always worried about her, searching for herbs, going further than she'd prefer just to take care of her, and she had to know he was okay when he wasn't by her side! How was she supposed to watch him walk away time and time again not sure how he'd manage to feed himself while he was worrying about her? That was growing harder and harder, though, and more often was less showing and more walking him through it.
She tried to spend time with her family, too, when she wasn't manic with nesting: Had helped her sister pick out a den of her own, down by the shore end of the ravine. Helped Mom settle in and get comfy in a cave all her own - one Raisa hoped was good enough to stay in, come the end of the year. Helped Carni pick a den nearby and slightly above her own, so that he could continue to guard her and, more importantly, her children. Made sure everyone had pelts to rest their weary heads on at the end of a long day, and that even if they had separate dens now, they were always welcome to come and see her whenever they wanted! She suspected she was more torn up about what was really no distance at all but felt like miles to someone who had always been in a communal den with others.

But she and Bo deserved their own space to grow, together. Settle in, together.
Maybe Northfall would finally start to feel like home.

Nobody else was welcome in the ravine, at least right now -- not that many had reason to bother her, specifically, but her instincts were fierce. If she smelled someone else, Northfall or not, she moved to meet them, keep them from the ravine. It was selfish of her, but for once, she didn’t mind. Her blood-deep impulse was to protect her nest and the coming babies, and nothing between heaven and earth would stop her from that. Nothing would make her feel bad for that. She suspected Wardruna might understand, herself, but she'd also never keep the Queen from coming to say hello either - perhaps the only person outside her own family that would be welcomed over the next weeks.
Knowing there was a bear and a tiger guarding her den was as comforting as it got, she thought with a smirk, slipping from the den. She felt like a great fat whale, pulling herself from the stony walls and lumbering up to the pool outside the den. The river that ran down through the ravine was cold, and fresh, but it didn’t pool up terribly high next to the den, and the current leading it further down-mountain to the ocean was sluggish. Even the waterfalls didn’t seem so terribly loud, small as they were, and the area was peaceful. Quiet. Safe. Tucked here on the edge of the mountain, the borders of Northfall around them, family surrounding her nest, Raisa had never felt so safe. So comfortable. She dipped her head and drank deep of the icy water before continuing on.
Still, her paws led her to patrol the area like it was her own small territory; curly tail flagged as her emotions throbbed in her chest, breaths heavy as she climbed higher along the grassy sides of a steep bit of hill. She couldn’t smell anything but Northfall, anything that didn’t belong, but it didn’t stop her from looking. From making sure.
She was desperate to be a good parent. To show her kids they were so, so loved. To make sure they grew up strong, and had everything they could ever wish for. Whatever they wanted, she knew she’d find a way to grant their wishes; find teachers for whatever skills she and Bo couldn’t teach, take them to see their wildest dreams, show them all the best things there were to this wild world. To share their lives, lift them higher to be happier than she’d ever been in her existence.

Whatever she had to do to get them there.

Raisa reached the top of the ravine, huffing and puffing, irritated about her lack of breath and soreness alike. Still, looking out over the little slice of home she’d carved out for what remained of her family was something special. The peaks rising behind her, the ocean sprawling beneath; what more could she ask for? A beautiful home, an expanding family, a safe place to lay her head....
Yeah, maybe Northfall could be home in a way she’d been keeping it at arms length. Not on purpose, just… as if she’d been waiting. For what, she didn’t know: maybe spring just felt extra warm after the long blizzard and she was being sentimental.
She smiled over the mountainside, tail wagging.

It was a slender, pretty woman of ginger and white who drew closer, and Raisa watched with uncertainty for several moments until she realized why the hot, protective flare in her stomach was so... little. She was familiar this newcomer, if not properly, in knowledge itself. She had seen the ginger-kissed journeyman before many times in passing, hadn't she? Searching the north for Ragnar. Sitting before Arvid as he called his people together to tell them their King was no more. Fighting a dark Elysium girl at the Tourney. She'd been a part of Northfall her whole life, had been in the background of many of Raisa's memories.

'Journey of the Stormborn, one of Wardruna's younger siblings.'

One of Arvid's two littermates!

I always did like visiting here, Raisa crooned, ears hot from the flattering statement (especially when she felt like a fat whale), stepping further from the ravine to meet her visitor, The cold air, the peaks reaching for the stars - sings to something ancient in my bones. Ichorwood was her heart, her childhood home, and the bloody forest beside the sea would always hold a part of her, but the cold? The north? Touching the sky and kissing the clouds? This was her soul. This was deep-threaded instinct. This was a home that didn't come from memories and sentiment, but wisdom deep in her marrow.

Now her children would have the chance to grow up here. Perhaps they would find both sentimentality and a deep-seated sense of belonging.

Raisa Rodion, she introduced properly, briefly dipping her head in a respectful nod to the actual princess of Northfall. She knew the vikings weren't staunch in the royal part of the hierarchy, that strength meant more than 'royal blood' or anything superficial, but Raisa felt a certain level of respect was expected of her nonetheless. Nobody picked titles like King and Queen and Sovereign if they didn't want their bloodline to be important -- noted. Currently a Huntress of Northfall. Not a Stormborn or anything grand, perhaps yet one day, but no longer Seiiki. No longer seperate. Wardruna's court seemed rather empty, didn't it?

Yet this was an age-mate. A sister to her long-lost friend. She could be... Raisa's friend.

Raisa had so few of those, really. She had formal friends made from alliances, but most of those she'd let nearer her heart were gone now. Dead or just vanished, they'd left her all the same. She hadn't yet noticed Persephone's scent was back floating along the peaks. It was as hard to believe there could still come companions let alone that she needed any; she'd gotten along just fine this long with her chosen family and none others, hadn't she?
Hadn't she? Would Seiiki still be thriving had she more friends?

I was friends with Arvid, she offered, flicking an ear. He was a sore subject around here, but she wondered where that left Journey. I am sorry I didn't get to know you, too. Time for that now, though, right? Raisa smiled. Whether it was just good standing with a packmate or really blossomed into something more was yet to be seen, but at least this part, Raisa was good at.
Making friends never seemed the issue, just keeping them. Was she doing something wrong? At what point do you think you might be the problem?

'I have lived in many places, seen many things…But it's the north I will forever call home.' Raisa nodded in long, slow strokes, truly understanding. She'd visited many places in Mythris, and the chilly mountain may yet have been her favorite.

Journey mentioned being Ambassador - ranging out, seeking others, making friends and allies of the pack. What a life. Once, she toyed with the idea of being able to roam to and from the pack as her job, but it wasn't like Wardruna was strict in needing to stay close to home either. As long as Raisa came home with meat and knowledge of game trails, perhaps even some recruits as she was apparently want to do, what would've been the problem?

But now, Bo seemed to have the coming and going handled as he searched for herbs, and their pups would be here soon. Children that would need mothering, children she already couldn't imagine straying from for more than it took to go and hunt for a few hours at worst. Whatever dreams she had of roaming were, at best, put on hold. Perhaps one day, when the whelps were grown, there would be time for adventures and spreading their wings to see the world together.
For now, she was just excited to hold tiny little paws in her own, and sing them to sleep, and tell them every day how much she loved them.

Agrippina welcomed my people and I when we arrived, Raisa smiled, nodding, She is very good at her job, a kind woman.

Journey spent her time doing the seasoning of meats and drying of food and pelts she brought back from the road. Raisa's ears perked. Before she could voice her thoughts, the princess exclaimed as she seemed to remember something - and pulled the pelt from her back. The striped Rodion's eyes rounded. For me? she echoed, dumbfounded. For a moment, she could only stare, and then hurried to take it before Journey's neck began to ache. After another stunned blink, she turned to settle it over her own back, staring at it in amazement with a burning face.

Nobody has ever given me a gift before, she said, and then regretted it -- what a childish thing to say. Her ears grew hot, too. Thank you, Journey. It is a fine thing. She blinked, doing her very best [blur=2]and failing[/i] to blink back the shine to her sunset gaze.

She tried to move swiftly from the emotional wave, smiling.

I never quite learned how to tan pelts myself. The job gets done, but they fall apart quicker than I feel they should, and they're messy.

A certain level of bashfulness colored her features.

Do you think you could teach me, one day when I am not den-bound?