It had taken a long time for Golde to finally catch her breath. Lapping her tongue over her pale nose, she shifted her head to gaze at Hexx, heeding his question. '...How are you feeling?' The mother softly grinned, turning back to her young. After everything—the fears, the pain, the exertion—she certainly wasn't expecting the euphoria that filled her body, now.

Her body shifted, turning to further lean against Hexx. She let her hind leg stretch outwards as though to make the litter more visible to their father. Tired, she murmured back, her voice hoarse, but... I'll be fine. She dipped her muzzle to, once again, gingerly brush over each body. Her brows raised and ears flickered forwards when she felt tiny lips latch onto her nose, whining in protest and confusion from the absence of milk. With a breathy laugh, she nudged the pup away and back towards her flank.

Hazel eyes glanced over them once, twice, thrice—and finally, she noticed. A pup donning fur of deep, slate gray and a warmer amber. The staggered movements of his chest, the near-silent wheeze in his breath.

Golde tried to stay calm—but she couldn't. Her heart rate spiked, her lips thinned sharply. She urgently bent her head down to lift the runt between her jaws, gingerly resting him in the warm crevice between her forelimb and her sternum. Hexx— her voice shook, this one, his breathing. It isn't right. She pressed her snout into the small chest, pressing frantically as if to expel whatever problem may be festering in his jugular.

To no avail.

For a fleeting moment, the others were ignored as she continued to prod at the newborn's lungs. Her breaths grew shallow from panic. I don't know what to do, Hexx... her voice wavered desperately. She turned her gaze away from the wheezing pup to look over at her lover behind her.