Tails or Tales
Maire woke to the sound of whimpering and scratching at the door. She rose and found Cait nosing the door, scratching it with her paw and whimpering loudly. "All right, miss, out ye go. Better out than in," she smiled. At least the hound had the good sense to take her business outside, she thought, as she dressed.
She was soon outside as well, making her round of morning chores. She was surprised to find Cait standing at the edge of the property where Thom and the pack had left a few days ago. The hound was rigid and whimpering. Maire went to her, running a hand from the tip of her head down her back. Cait shivered in response, but her stance did not change; she remained focused, her whimper increased to a whine. Something had a grip on her and Maire suspected it had to do with her man and the hound's mate. They sensed things, the hounds did. She had seen it before when the hounds warned of weather or other dangers pending. Cait was definitely sensing something was not right with her world. It set Maire's teeth on edge. She stood there with the hound, her hand gripping her fur until the knuckles turned white, and stared off into the distance. She wanted to know what Cait felt. No, the truth was she wanted to feel that everything was fine. She sighed. It wouldn't do either of them any good to stand here all day and speculate. It was time for a bit o' breakfast for them both. Perhaps the thought of food would distract the soon-to-be-mother and end the keening noise. With any luck that would be the case. Maire did not think she could take much more of the sound echoing through her head. 'Twas not so bad outside, but inside the house it would be unbearable, like being at a true Irish wake. The thought was enough to make her innards boil over with images of grief to come or her brain to implode from the sheer pain of considering facing that much loss.
"Let's go, girlie. 'Tis time for ye to help me break our fast." Maire gave the hound a reassuring pat and turned for the house. The hound looked at her, then out to the forest. She paused for a good two minutes before turning and loping to catch up and heel at Maire's skirts, following her back into the small house. Inside Cait stayed right at her heel as Maire fried up some eggs and a half rasher of bacon with several slices of bread. She chopped up some of the bread and poured the bacon drippings on the fried bits. then layered egg and crumbled bacon over this and set it aside to cool. Next she plated her own breakfast, poured some tea and set her table. Then she put out a bowl of water and the first dish for Cait. As the hound approached, she held up her hand in the motion that meant stand still. Cait immediately obeyed. Maire said a blessing over their food, including a heartfelt request for protection over her Thom and the pack. When she finished, Cait continued on to her place. The two "women" ate their breakfast in companionable silence, if one didn't count the sound of Cait's slurping as conversation, that is.
Finished with her meal, the hound made her way back to the hearth rug to lay down. Maire cleaned up and poured another cup of tea and fetched her book. She bent to her knees by Cait and stroked her from ears to tail along her back, long smooth soothing strokes. Then she pressed her hands softly against her distended belly. She's gotten even bigger overnight, thought Maire. The poor thing is fit to burst with Coll's seed. She could feel the pups move under her hands; it felt like two for sure. Given Cait's size she would be having them soon, very soon. She gave her a few more soft strokes, then rose and settled in her chair.
"How about we take the mornin' off and I read to ye and yer little ones?" She was nearing the end of Gulliver's Travels. It was a shame Conn was missing it, he would have liked it, thought Maire. "I'll read it to him when he gets back." Inspired with that thought, she began to read aloud with enthusiasm for Cait. For her part Cait seemed to listen for the first few minutes before she dozed off to the lilt of Maire's voice.
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