Welcome to Gaia! ::

It had been so long since her womb had last quickened with children. That wasn't to say there hadn't been many a buck since then, indeed she wasn't sure who had fathered this particular clutch, but not since her first clutch nor since she had reunited them had she been pregnant again. And perhaps it had been for the best, ordained even. She certainly hadn't been ready, her first clutch she had deposited beneath the roots of a mangrove and never looked back, and such would likely have been the fate of any children she had borne soon after. But now, now things were different. This clutch would be different. They would not be cast aside, left to face the world alone. She had grown, and she had learned -- there was strength in numbers, but also strength in love. She would care for these children, raise them to value what she had newly come to value, help them develop strength she herself had taken too long to learn.

And that included before they were born. Now she sought the blessing of another, to help them along even before they dreamed their first dreams. Anything for family.

A flash of white and blue caught her eye, which had already been on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. The speed of the cheetah immediately drew her attention -- there was something just a bit… more to it, wasn't there? There was no time to hesitate, she burst into a run after it, her slightly swollen belly not yet enough to encumber her own gait. She slowed only when the cheetah made its leap--too high--and brought the bird down, the smirk on her own maw matching the cheetah's satisfaction.

"Impressive," she remarked with a dip of her head, panting just slightly from her own chase, as the cat turned towards her and flashed what could only be a smile (though her doubts had already been cleared). "I don't want to keep you from your meal, so I'll get straight to the point. I'm with child, as I'm sure you already know, and would ask you grant them your blessing. I would have offered you my hunting skills in exchange, but I see you have no need of them." Her smile here bore a touch of admiration.

"Should I be able to assist you otherwise, though, just say the word." After all, she was never one to ask for favors without offering something in return.

A brow raised in response to the mare's request-- was an answer such a valuable thing?--but she supposed one's values shifted when Chosen. Knowledge was power in it's own way, after all, so the raised brow dropped only shortly after.

"If you're sure, then shoot." She replied easily. Perhaps the thought of honestly (for a lie would surely be sensed out) any question the mare might pose would have daunted her (secretly) less secure time of her life, but she had been through plenty of introspection as of late and nothing left to hide.

Weakness… She did not like weakness, and she considered herself having very little of it. Limits, perhaps, but those she pushed for the thrill of them, and that was not weakness. So she pondered for a long moment, not entirely sure what her answer was, and then not entirely sure how quite to say it.

"Mistaking companionship for reliance, and therefore weakness," she said at last, putting words to the realizations she had slowly been coming to from that long ago day when Marshdove had so insistently inserted herself into her mother's life. "I want these children to learn how to fend for themselves, but also that there is a different sort of strength in kin ties. I'd like them to take less time to realize that than I did." And there, perhaps, was as close to regret as Edge would ever come.

She couldn't have asked for a more fitting blessing, and for a moment, pure gratitude illuminated her eyes and curved her smile. A moment later, her usual attitude had returned, her tail giving a satisfied flick, glad that she had managed to answer the mare appropriately and secure said fitting blessing for her offspring.

"Thank you, for your blessing and your time," she said with a bow of her head, "I'll let you eat in peace now." She had not, after all, forgotten the bird that was growing colder by the moment. Still, she was not so rude as to simply walk off from the mare-- instead she waited for some small cue of dismissal before setting on her way.