She stood protectively over her children as her heartbeat gradually slowed from its thunderous pace. A prickling of shame crept through Kirain as she recalled dismissing her mate’s warnings about the hunters of the sky. The image of talons sinking into soft flesh before vanishing into the heavens with their prize nearly brought her to tears.

She checked Faolán, then checked him again, even though nothing had touched him but her. He was in surprisingly good spirits, and that small fact washed her in relief. Turning toward the den’s entrance to check on her husband, she called out softly, Tha sinn gu math, a ghràidh. Na gabh dragh, ma ’s e do thoil e. (We are fine, my love. Please don't worry.)

As she spoke, the little ones wriggled free from her embrace, tumbling toward the entrance and calling out for their da. If not for what had just happened, she might have melted at the sight of their adorable determination. She allowed them to wander closer to their father, hoping that seeing them safe and whole would bring him peace.

That… was certainly an adventure, don’t you think, mo ghràidh? Not quite how I’d hoped our day would go, but I suppose there’s not much we can do about that. Are you okay?

Her tone was gentle, with a playful lilt meant to soothe the tension lingering in both their hearts.