(lol I'm fine, just a little busy with work, and preemptively socially exhausted for Thanksgiving next week -n- plus I've finally started writing my larp system so I've been occupied trying to get that on paper [or Google Docs, rather....] before I forget what I'm thinking lol)
Magpie nodded with agreement of Thistle's assessment. "It'll be fun!" she promised, thinking of how cool the air off the water would be compared to the heat trapped beneath the branches in the middle of the forest. "I just wish Mother could come," she sighed, but she knew that it would be terrible for her breathing, and it had seemed that Feather had been growing weaker by the day lately. She supposed a family excursion may help to get their minds off of it, and to cheer their mother up by bringing back water and food, and perhaps a shiny rock or feather or something similarly pretty.
"Now just to wake the kits," Fox replied, hopping to his paws and shaking out his long, russet pelt. He trotted over to the burrow, pausing in the entrance to allow his eyes to adjust for a heartbeat. The den smelled like dry soil and milk- even though the kits had been weaned for over a moon now, he figured that after three litters the milk-scent was just a permanent feature. The air was cooler here as well, although still warm.
"Fox? Is everything alright?"
Light reflected from a pair of pale green eyes from the back of the den as Feather raised her head wearily. Pigeon and Shadow were tucked against her belly, although by now both of the kits were nearly as large as the somewhat frail queen.
"Yes, everything is fine, Mother," Fox replied gently, moving deeper into the den to nudge the kits. "Magpie thought that we should go down to the river to hunt, since it's hot out today, and to bring you some water. We thought the kits could come. It would do them good to start learning how to navigate the forest."
Feather looked a bit uncertain at the suggestion, glancing down at her sleeping kits. "They're a bit young, aren't they? Only three moons."
Fox twitched his whiskers slightly, although with a bit more exasperation than amusement. Feather still clung to her ancestral notion that kits shouldn't venture into the forest until they had reached 6 moons, but by that time they would be nearly full grown. Maybe in the time of the Great Clans, which Feather had drilled into their brains from the time they were days old, through stories passed down through the generations, it would have been prudent for kits to stay in camp that long, with so many warriors to provide for them. But now, they were mouths to feed and the sooner they started to at least get a feel for learning to feed themselves, the better in Fox's opinion.
"They'll be fine, they're not going far and won't be doing anything dangerous," was the ginger tom's cordial reply. "Just looking around a bit, getting a feel for the wild."
The tortoiseshell molly let out a reluctant sigh. "Very well," she replied. Gently, she nosed each of her kits until they stirred. "Pigeon, Shadow? Would you like for Fox to take you to the river today?"