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Phoebe lounged on a rock in the middle of the forest, eyes half closed. It felt unusual to sit, to do nothing, to not work her damn hardest, but she needed time to think things over. About Muerta. About the kids. About Weland.

Weland. The Maman was less than pleased with the male she had chosen, but Phoebe had no regrets. His coat might not be the brightest, but she didn't deserve that anymore. Her and Muerta - they were one, both tainted. No regrets; the pack had a leader, she had Muerta. Fair trade. And Weland represented that, with his patches of light and dark fur. He was the unity between her and Muerta.

And the children... they needed a father, somebody to care for them. Her and Muerta were doing their best, and there were nannies, but... three of them. Two dark girls and one bright boy. She had disappointed at first, but now... she smiled. Mercedes, Libitina, Thanatos. They were Muerta's children, and that made them hers. She loved them, truly she did, and she had even decided to spare the male that had brought them to the world. Mostly. She tensed slightly, thinking over all the things she'd like to say to him. Only... no, that was the past. She had forgiven Muerta. And she would have to get used to sharing.

Which brought her back to Weland. Nothing was final yet, she had left the last word to Muerta. She wanted to be sure Muerta approved. She valued the other female's judgment.

And the kids would have some say too. She rather hoped Weland got along well with them; she didn't want to hurt him but knew she would beat him and chase him to the borders if he ever did anything to harm a hair on their heads.

Muerta didn't know exactly what to feel. She was a miasma of swirling thoughts and emotions. The word had finally gotten out that she and Phoebe were mates and that the hunter known as Weland was to be the male in their little love triangle. The fact that this certain cat had gotten out of the bag was a huge relief to Muerta. There was one weight off of her shoulders. But as one problem was solved, three more problems came... out of her belly.

It had been some time since Muerta's offspring had hatched and grown into beautiful and carefree children. It was no secret that Muerta was proud of her brood and that she had a difficulty adjusting to a life being a mother. Of course, Muerta would trade it for nothing. She loved her children, she loved her life, and she loved Phoebe. She didn't give a damn what the other pack members thought of her as long as she was confident in herself, which she was. [Some may say that she was over-confident.]

The dark-pelted huntress meandered through the forest, alone but for her thoughts, until she found Phoebe and Weland together about a rock. Muerta's hackles rose as she laid eyes on the male with Phoebe, her Phoebe, when she reminded herself that she was bound to these two and Weland was now part of the family. That would take some getting used to. She walked over to the pair and smiled. "Hello, love. Hello... Weland."

"Good to see you two, too," Weland replied, calmly. Despite his cool exterior, he was growing quietly fond of the silver princess and the spooky Muerta. He had some ideas for jewelry for them (earrings and bracelets for both, as well as a ribbon with a rose pin on it for Muerta, and he'd need to find a chance to trade with the two-leggers for that stuff later), but that, as had been stated, would come later. When he had time to make his ladies even more lovely.

Looking speculatively at Muerta, he mentally circled the rose motif in red ink on the mental checklist of what to make her. Definitely roses. Pretty and prickly. Maybe pick a red so dark that it was almost black or had a black sheen to it or something. That's what Muerta reminded him of.

Turning back to the princess, he set aside thoughts of either gold or silver and definitely some of those iridescent stones he'd heard called opals. He had a bigger task ahead of him, involving becoming a part of Westfall. A task both his ladies had offered to teach him.