“I’ll take care of you and you’ll take care of me and together, we’ll take care of them.”

  (Small Fry Chapter 3)

“There you are!”  He walked out of the kitchen with his hands on his hips.  “I was about to come up there after you.”

“You’re a bossy boots, you know that?”  I poked him in the side.  Next, I fetched my plate of toasted sandwiches sitting on the kitchen bench.  I saw Declan had made himself one too, which I handed to him on my way out.

“What was that squeal, I heard?”  He followed me into the lounge room.  He sat beside on the couch and watched closely, as I began to eat.

“I found Great Grandma’s and Great, Great Grandma’s diaries and photos.”  I said happily.

“Oh,” he sounded surprised, “that’s handy.”

“So I put the box with Nana and Grandpa’s things, beside the trunk with those.  Now my foremothers are all sitting together.”  I joked.

“And talking about how their progeny Bianca Sabre, is finally expecting?”  He smiled softly.

“That would be nice.”  I sighed again.

“Don’t worry, B.”  He patted me on the leg.  “Having our daughters will be just like it’s always been.  I’ll take care of you and you’ll take care of me and together, we’ll take care of them.”

I leaned in to rub my nose against his cheek affectionately, which he appreciated.  But as he turned his head to give me a kiss, my hand swiped one of his triangles.  However, he caught me.

“Hey!”  He objected.  “Man, you really are hungry, aren’t you?”

“In more ways than one, dear husband.”  I giggled, before kissing him back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was looking on my great, great grandfather Flint Riverclaw and his mate Jessica.

  (Small Fry Chapter 3)

Just as I turned to leave, I noticed something.  It was a red trunk which looked worn with time.  It was half hidden, underneath another cardboard box and for the life of me, I don’t remember seeing it before.  But I felt this undeniable urge to investigate, or maybe it was one of my all-knowing feelings?

“B!”  I heard the distant call of my husband.  “Your brunch is ready!”

“Coming!”

Quickly, I walked over and lifted the other box off the red trunk then I sunk to my knees beside.  When I opened the lid, the hinges squealed in protest as a huge cloud of dust came up.  It sent me into a sneezing frenzy! 

“Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!” 

My sensitive nose objected, as I spluttered and waved my hand through the air to clear it.  But when I looked inside, I accidentally let out a squeal!  I felt like I just hit the jackpot.

“B?”  He hollered.  “What are you doing up there?”

“Nothing!”

“Then come downstairs and do nothing, while you eat your brunch!”

“Alright already!”  I snapped back.

I looked inside the trunk again at the old baby clothing, a couple of framed photos as well as some old books.  But these weren’t just ordinary books, they were more diaries!  When I opened up the covers, I saw the names ‘Clara Winter’ as well as ‘Jessica Tandy’.  They were my great grandmother as well as my great, great grandmother, from my Riverclaw family. 

Bingo!  They were just what I was hoping for, after my previous conversation.  It looks like Declan doesn’t have to approach Caesar after all. 

I picked up the framed photos for a closer look.  There was a picture circa late 20^th Century, of a pretty, blonde woman standing with a handsome, Lokoti man.  The woman had a baby bulge, protruding through her thick jacket.  I was looking on my great, great grandfather Flint Riverclaw and his mate Jessica.   She had been namesake of my mother, since she died before Mum was born.  According to Grandfather, Mum also inherited the original Jessica’s temper too.

“B, your toasted sandwiches are turning cold!”  He complained.

“I’m coming!”

Hastily, I put the photo frame back and shut the lid.  I stood up again as I dusted myself off, when my eyes landed on the new box I had just brought up.  I made myself a silent promise that I’d return to visit my foremothers soon; the women who’d been the mates of my Lokoti Werewolf forefathers.  I pushed the box of Wisetail family memorabilia closer to the trunk, so my foremothers would be waiting together.

Lastly, I climbed down the attic ladder, closed the hatch and happily skipped downstairs.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My glowing turquoise eyes dulled back to their dark blue colour.

  (Small Fry Chapter 3)

I carried the box up the staircase to put it on the floor, in the small upstairs hallway.  Next, I reached up and pulled the chord hanging from the ceiling, which opened the hatch to the attic.  The fold-up ladder which was attached, unfolded before me. 

Using one hand to carry the box, I climbed the small ladder up into the dark, dusty attic. 

Immediately, I sneezed from the cold and dust!  Then I had to engage my glowing eyes for the night-vision, so I could find the light switch.  My hand found the long chord which hung from the ceiling, and I gave it a gentle tug.

As soon as the light came on, my glowing turquoise eyes dulled back to their dark blue colour.  I looked about the disorganized, dusty, dim attic.  Many a cobweb hung from the rafters, or even connected a couple of the boxes which were piled high.  I was looking on three hundred years of memorabilia.

We haven’t been up here in years!  Oh hang on, maybe Declan has… my eyes settled on the least dustiest of the items, my two suitcases.  So that’s what he did with them!  I suppose I should be relieved he didn’t burn them, like he threatened to. 

I started to examine the different labels on the cardboard boxes.  Once upon a time, this attic was clean and organized.  When we started to accumulate keepsakes from family members who’d passed on, we wrote on the boxes what was in them.

My hand removed some the dust, so I could see the descriptions properly.  I read his writing on boxes which read as ‘Mom’s Stuff’, or ‘Derik’s Stuff’ or ‘Blanche and Michael’s Stuff’.  They had been Declan’s human mother, brother, nephew and niece.  His family’s things were stacked neatly against one of the attic walls. 

My family’s things however, weren’t as tidy as Declan’s.  Boxes such as ‘Vincent’s Things,’ or ‘Mum and Dad’s Things’, or ‘Gran and Grandfather’s Things’; were all sitting willy-nilly about the confined space.  Over the many years, I’d open them upon occasion when I needed to find something, like a photo album.   But his boxes were untouched, as I couldn’t recall him ever looking, perhaps because the memories were still too painful?

I picked up the box which Walt had given me and carried it over to the box full of ‘Gran and Grandfather’s Things’.  I wanted my paternal grandparents memorabilia to sit beside my maternal grandparents.  I’d have to come back with tape and seal it, before labelling it.

            Unconsciously, I began to stroke the box as I reminisced on my parents and my grandparents.  With my ‘bundle of joy’, I’d have loved to share this with my family.  I never did make my Mum and Dad grandparents however, Aunt Susan enjoyed this delight through Derik. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah, it only took a century of marriage for your father to get it through his head that I truly was your mate.”

   (Small Fry Chapter 3) 

“So this is the last of your Dad’s stuff, huh?”  He picked up the baby album, to peruse through.  “It’s hard to think of your father being a baby.  Whenever I think of Hunter Wisetail, I remember this disapproving, old Lokoti Werewolf, constantly looking over my shoulder.  It was like he was just waiting for me to screw up.”

“He wasn’t that bad!” I rolled my eyes.  “Besides, you and Dad ended up getting along.”

“Yeah, it only took a century of marriage for your father to get it through his head that I truly was your mate.”  He complained.  “In the end we didn’t get along, we simply stopped fighting aloud.  Trust me, our glares said it all.”

This made me recall something about my parent’s passing, in particular what was communicated between my father and husband.

“Declan,” I began, “just before Mum and Dad left for the space time continuum, what did he say telepathically to you?”

“Huh?”

“You said, ‘do you really have to ask?’ or something as such.”  I remembered.

“Oh yeah, he tried to make me swear that I’d always put your safety first.”  He said bitterly.  “And my response to such a stupid question was, did he really have to ask?  He was about to leave behind his mortal existence and evolve as a sparkling cloud of energy and light, to the space time continuum.  But he still didn’t trust me with his beloved, only daughter.”

I cupped his face to pull him in for a kiss. “Yes, but I’m your beloved B now.” 

“Damn straight,” he murmured, just before our lips pressed together.  “You always have been and always will be, no matter how hard your father tried to split us up.”

“He didn’t try to split us up!”

“He married you to another man.”

“Oh yeah, there was that.”  I conceded.  “But that was before Dad knew of my feelings for you.”

“He suspected MY feelings and he still pushed you onto Grant.”  He let go to busy himself, by picking up the box.  “I’m gonna go put this stuff up into the attic.”

“No, I will.”  I hopped off the bench to take it from him.  “While I’m up there, I wanna check on something.”

“OK then,” he watched me walk away.  “Hey, have you actually eaten breakfast yet?”

“No.” I called over my shoulder.

“I’m gonna fix you some toasted tomato and cheese sandwiches then.”

“OK!”  I sung back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Details details,” the European Werewolf growled

  (Small Fry Chapter 3)

My mate crossed over to my side as I turned tearful at the photo.  These people whom I hadn’t seen for over two centuries, could still bring a tear to my eye.  I had to sniff as my nose began to run, with my longing to see my immediate family again.

“Don’t worry, B.”  He put his arm about my waist.  “This afternoon, I’ll go to Forrest and Caesar myself and ask for the Riverclaw stuff.”

“Oh Declan!”  I threw my arms about his neck.  “I miss them!  I miss them so much!  I just wish that my parents and my grandparents were here.”

“I miss my Mom and my little brother, too.”  He held me tightly.  “She’d be spoiling us rotten, by cooking for us and coming over nearly every day, to check on the pregnancy.”

My mate gently lifted me up into his hug, as my legs wrapped about his waist.  His right arm held me up, as his left rubbed my back.  Our faces came together, as he used his to wipe away my tears, before planting several soft kisses over my trembling lips.

Walt said uncomfortably, “If you like, I’ll do another search of our attic to make sure you have all of Hunter Wisetail’s things.”

“That would be nice, especially since you’re living in the house that my father owned.”   I reminded.

“Yes but Aunt B, when your father left it to my great, great grandfather; we renovated it and made it our own.”  He joked back. 

“Details details,” the European Werewolf growled.  “If my wife says it’s her house then damn it, it’s still her house!”

“I take it you procure anything for her, that Aunt B says is hers, right Uncle?”  My cousin smirked.

“You got that right.”

“Yep, this is going to be an interesting pregnancy to be sure.”  Walt pretended to look nervous. 

“It sure is,” my mate held me closely, “and together, we’re gonna get through it.”

His bright blue eyes held onto my dark blue ones, as if silently endorsing his words. 

“Then if you two will excuse me, I have my own pregnant mate to return to.” Walt cleared his throat.  “Oh and by the way, Wendy wanted to invite you over for afternoon tea, for baby-talk.”

“Er, our afternoons can get pretty busy.”  Declan tried to put our recent bedroom behaviour, diplomatically.  “How about morning tea instead?” 

“That should be fine.”  He shrugged.  “I’ll see myself out and thanks again for the furniture, it'll come in handy for my eldest kids.”

Once Walt shut the front door on his way out, Declan placed me back on top of the kitchen bench again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Typical for his breed, he was a control freak and with his ego, he liked being in charge.

  (Small Fry Chapter 3)

He and Walt disappeared upstairs, as I stomped back into the kitchen whilst snarling obscenities under my breath.

I don’t get Declan…even after two centuries of marriage.  He runs hot and cold more than the kitchen faucet!  One minute he’s happy then he’s snappy.  Who’s the pregnant woman here, me or him? 

Then I paused…my husband has been talking to the men in the pack, about impending fatherhood?  Why, to get advice?  This almost made me laugh out loud, as I made myself another coffee.

It was funny to think of the former elderly European Werewolf, actually asking the younger Lokoti Werewolves, for their words of wisdom.  It also seemed like he was embarrassed about it.   He’s never liked asking for help, maybe this was the reason why he’s acting so tetchy about it?

Typical for his breed, he was a control freak and with his ego, he liked being in charge.  To ask his subordinates for baby tips, must have been a lesson in humility for him.  So to repay Walt for his help, he was giving him the beds?  Ah, now it made sense.

After the coffee was made, I sat up on the kitchen bench to drink my beverage.  I overheard the men make several trips up and down the stairs, as they carried the mattresses and furniture out to Walt’s hover-car. With their supernatural strength, they easily carried the loads individually.  Soon my spare beds were strapped to the top of Walt’s vehicle.

To say goodbye, my distant cousin appeared in the kitchen entranceway with my husband standing beside.  He was carrying an old cardboard box in his arms, which was full of books and old knick-knacks.  He must have had them in his hover-car.

“Oh and by the way Aunt B, I’ve brought a couple of things that you might find interesting.  I found them when I was going through my attic last month.”  He placed the box on the bench top, beside where I was sitting.

“What’s this?”  I picked up one of the books which looked so old, the pages were yellow.

“It’s an old diary from one of my great aunts.”  He explained.  “But I think she’d be closer to you than she is to me.  I think it’s Ling Wisetail’s diary.”

Declan’s and my eyes widened at the name, as I quickly put down my mug to open it.

“Hey, it’s Nana’s diary!” I cried out excitedly.  “Ling Wisetail was my Dad’s mother!”

“She’s something like eight or nine times removed from me, but I thought you'd appreciate it.”  Walt said kindly.  “There’s also a couple of old photos in there that I think are of your father when he was a boy, as well as of your Grandpa.”

The fact that Walt’s family had them didn’t surprise me, since Wisetail used to be my maiden name.  Walt and Wendy even lived in the same house that I grew up in.  Gleefully, I rifled through the box looking at what else was in there.  I came across a baby album and when I opened it up, I saw it was Dad’s!

“Oh my gosh!”  I jumped off the bench.  “This is my father’s baby album!  I didn’t know your family had this!”

“Family keepsakes such as photo albums and family records, are passed along the males in the family.”  He reminded.   “I guess after your father evolved to the space time continuum, it was among his keepsakes which remained in house when Jake Wisetail took over, who was my forefather.”

“That tradition sucks.”  I sighed.  “Declan and I will certainly break it, with our daughters and their daughters.”

“We certainly will.”  He agreed.  “Hey B, don’t you have a lot of Riverclaw stuff?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was a typical Lokoti Werewolf being completely devoted to his mate and young.

  (Small Fry Chapter 3)

I put on a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved, black t-shirt and a purple, zip-up sweater, before I wandered downstairs to fix myself some brunch.  However, just as I opened the fridge, I was startled by a knock at the door.

I smelled whoever it was, was one of the pack.  So when I swung open the front door, I wasn’t surprised to find Walt Wisetail standing on my icy veranda.  Behind him, was his U.S. Forest Service hover-vehicle, parked on the snowy driveway.

“Walt,” I smiled on my distant relation.  “How are you?  How’s Wendy and the rug rats?”

“We’re well, thanks Aunt B.”  He smiled proudly. 

He was a typical Lokoti Werewolf, being completely devoted to his mate and young.  Never in a million years would he gripe about his wife’s mood swings.  In fact, his grin grew even wider with his next update. 

“Actually, Wendy and I are expecting again.”

“A third kid on the way?”  My eyebrows arose.  “Wow, you really are following Lokoti Werewolf tradition there, Walt.”

He chuckled as he came in from the cold air, “How about yourself Aunt B, better late than never?”

Declan’s voice interrupted, as he jogged down the stairs. “We were stopping to smell the roses, before weighing down the marriage with kids.” 

“Kids don’t take away from the marriage, Uncle Dec.” He said affably.  “They add to it, just you wait and see.” 

My mate said sarcastically, “Oh yeah, the messy diapers, the late night feedings and losing your free time for the next 18 years; I can see how you’d say that.  Kids take away the need for romantic dinners, annual overseas holidays or even intimate evenings with the wife.” 

“With that attitude, you’re being extremely optimistic that you’re still going to have a wife to be intimate with.”  I passed a glare.

“Oh you two!”  Walt laughed loudly at our banter.  “Trust me, kids can add to the sex life.  Especially when the parents have to think up new ways how to sneak it in quietly, it leaves a lot to experimentation.”

Declan and I exchanged raised eyebrows at his candor.

“Now about those beds...” my husband laughed it off, “…this way.”

He turned to lead him upstairs when I spoke, “What about the beds?”

“Oh,” Walt paused and looked to Declan to explain.

“I’m giving our spare beds to the Wisetail’s.”   He stated.

“You are?”  My hands moved to my hips.  “When did you discuss THIS with me?”

“Now,” he said simply, before he started to make his way up the stairs again.

“Hold on - hold on - hold on!”  I interrupted, making the two turn around once more. 

“Er, is there a problem?”  Our guest looked uncomfortable.  “If you still need the beds Aunt B -”

“No, you can have the beds, Walt.”  I said in annoyance, whilst glaring Declan’s way.  “But I’m pissed off that my husband didn’t mention this before.”

“We don’t need the beds right now, B!”  He snapped.  “Let Walt and Wendy have them, since their ‘tribe’ is growing faster than ours is.” 

“THAT’S not the problem, Declan!  The problem is you didn’t ASK me first!”  I growled.

“Why the hell, do I have to ask you?”  He asked indignantly.  “What, every time I talk kids with the guys, I have to fill you in?” 

“When were you talking to the guys about kids?”  I asked in disbelief.

“When Walt, Forrest and Caesar, were telling me about the kind of things we’re gonna need, for the nursery!”  His voice rose.  “Now quit with the third degree, woman!” 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where did you think the nursery was gonna go, in the dining area?”

 (Small Fry Chapter 3)

Declan snickered, before sneaking a look over to where I was sitting.  He cast a lazy gaze over my legs, which were unintentionally on display, thanks to the short cut of the negligee.

“With a mother like that, I think all the boys in the tribe are going to agree with you.”  He said smoothly.

“You’re gonna love it aren't you, when they all come to you for your permission to date your offspring?"

“Ha!”  He snorted.  “Yes I am!  You know how Odysseus had to fulfill all those tasks, and it took him years to finally return to his wife?  I’m gonna be just as bad!  Any applicant that wants to come within ten meters of my girls, are gonna have to be the best of the best!  I’m gonna set such an obstacle course, most of them are gonna give up and slink away with their tails between their legs.”

“This should be interesting.”  I tittered, as I nursed my coffee in both hands.  “Only, I don’t think this planet has any Cyclops or Sirens left, I think they’re all extinct.”

“That’s what people thought about European Werewolves.”  He pointed out.  “Trust me B, if the boys have to get past me instead?  They’ll be begging for a Cyclops!”

I giggled back, “If the suitors saw you in European Werewolf form, they’d think they’re battling Cerberus.”

“Except for the fact that I don’t have three heads,” he said, before he paused.  “Then again, what about the tales of the ‘Hounds From Hell’?  It makes you wonder doesn’t it, about how much fiction is fact?”

“Hmm, it does a bit.”  I frowned pensively.  “I mean, your species of Werewolf is the oldest in the world.  So anytime a human saw one of you and lived to tell the tale; I wonder how often the truth was distorted and came out as a fable instead?”

“You got that right.”  Declan declared.  “I was used to the fact that I was the last of my kind.  Now with our first rug rat you’re carrying, I’m gonna have a whole litter to train.  I'll have to teach 'em not to become one of the monsters that people fear in the dark.”

“Maybe the legends are still being written?” I posed.  “Maybe we’re creating all new mythology of how the Last European Werewolf and the First Female Lokoti Werewolf, started an all new breed? Their strength and control, the world has never seen?”

“Oh joy," he grumbled, picking up his wrench again.  “But if my daughters mirror their mother with their monthly blues; it’ll be an all new PMT the world has never seen before.”

“Declan!”  I griped.  “We were having a nice conversation then, why did you go and spoil it?”

“I’m just trying to prepare for the future.”  He said simply.  “I’m gonna get our PA at Hodge Endeavor to start buying up shares in ‘Nutella’, so we can get unending free samples sent to us.  I’ll fill this house with choc hazelnut spread, so my moody wife and ferocious female young, will never go without.”

I growled under my breath and stood up to leave, when I paused to look back.

“Why are you pulling apart the beds, by the way?”

“We have a two bedroom house, B.”  He said coolly.  “Where did you think the nursery was gonna go, in the dining area?” 

“Oh.”

Declan's already organizing the nursery?  His gesture warmed my heart, at how the reluctant father was planning ahead for the baby.  I left him to his task and returned to the main bedroom, to get dressed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re not going to be the last of the European Werewolves anymore.”

  (Small Fry Chapter 3)

However, the other symptom the pregnancy produced, was difficulty with getting out bed in the mornings.  I guess I shouldn’t complain, since I wasn’t experiencing morning sickness like other women in my condition.  But I felt exceptionally sleepy and sluggish.

BANG!  BANG!  BANG!

Huh?

BAM!  BAM!  BAM!

What was this, déjà vu?  Sleepily, I raised my head and looked about, to find Declan was missing from his side of the bed.   His digital alarm clock read as 9.13 AM, so that’s why.  I had slept in again.

BANG!  RRRIIIIIIPP!  BAM!

What the hell was going on here?  I stumbled out of bed in my negligee and meandered over to the doorway of the second bedroom.  I found Declan pulling apart our two single beds.  He was sitting on the wooden floor, with his tool kit open as he was unscrewing the wooden bed frames.  The mattresses had been taken off and were now leaning against the wall.

“G’morning sunshine!”  He sung.  “Man, after 273 years, your bed hair still cracks me up!  But at least I’ve gotten you out of those cartoon cow pajamas.”

“You’re full of it.” I said back.  “I still wear them, when it’s in the dead of winter and it’s minus thirty degrees.”

“That’s my B.”  He chuckled at my early morning language.  “Your coffee awaits, my lady.”

I slid down the doorframe to land on my ass before I reached over to pick up the cup, which sat beside his.

“Mmm.” I closed my eyes, as I savoured my first sip.

“You know with this pregnancy, you’re going to have to start drinking de-caff soon.”  He warned.

“Blasphemy!”  I almost choked on my drink.

“That’s what I hear pregnant women drink.”

“Yeah, but they’re just humans and I’m a Werewolf, so it’s allowed.”

“Let’s ask Ki the next time he’s over, shall we?”  He taunted.

“Do you want to wear this coffee?”  I threatened.

“Man, I love my wife’s biting mood in a morning.”  He laughed to himself.  “Maybe if Marcus had come across you first thing, he wouldn’t have been so quick to try to steal you.”

He was referring to nearly two centuries ago, when I was abducted by the few remaining European Werewolves left.  It was the occasion when Declan murdered his treacherous, man-eating breed and made himself the last of his kind.  That was until of course, he knocked me up.

I turned silent as I watched him pull apart the bed frame.  He unscrewed the end board, before moving up to undo the bed head.  He was wearing a pair of old jeans and his favourite blue-chequered, flannel shirt, but his supernatural muscles bulged underneath.  Once the bed frame was completely undone, he moved to our second single bed to disassemble it.

Then I sung teasingly, “You’re not going to be the last of the European Werewolves anymore.  So how do you feel about that, Mr. Sabre?” 

“I am still gonna be the last though, Mrs. Sabre.”  He corrected as he worked.  “Our daughters are gonna be half-breeds, which is fine with me.”

“Half-breeds?”  I screwed up my face.  “I don’t like that term.”

“And why not?”

“I don’t know, it just doesn’t sound right.”

“Then what are you gonna call our daughters?”

“Special.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For 273 years my appearance never altered unless I did it deliberately to look older...

(Small Fry Chapter 3)

 

20^th December 2363

The pregnancy was life altering because everything around me, let alone inside me, changed.  

It changed the tribe’s previous views of me, as it changed my husband’s.  Not only was Declan watching closely but so too were the pack.  Everyone seemed fascinated, as they observed my shape shift, with some closer than others.

I had left behind a vision, a beautiful but barren creature whom people had put on a kind of pedestal; somewhat like a painting on the wall.  Like the two-dimensional art, I had always looked the same.  But now, everyone instantly noticed my changes, because they made me more life-like.

For 273 years my appearance never altered, unless I did it deliberately to look older with my changing academic identities.  And of course, this was excluding the change I went through, when I expanded to hunt on a full moon.  Otherwise, my breasts, abdomen, hips or bottom, always looked the same.  I kept this form for nearly three centuries, which was a broad-shouldered, athletic figure thanks to my Lokoti Werewolf physique. 

On this note, my appetite never differed, except for larger meals during the bitterly cold Alaskan winter.  However, after the first week of pregnancy, my husband instantly noticed the change in my eating.  I started to steal an extra piece of garlic bread, or a second bread roll with dinner, or even an extra piece of toast with breakfast.  My meals were increasing and after the first three weeks, I started to snack more. 

Declan would come into kitchen with an attack of the munchies and to his surprise, he would find me there.  I didn’t use to snack, instead I was quite happy with three meals a day.  But my cravings were starting up, like dipping celery sticks into a jar of peanut butter.

“You want a sandwich?  I can make you a sandwich.”  He offered, as he looked on pleasantly surprised.

I shook my head, “I don’t want a sandwich, I want celery sticks with peanut butter.” 

The next afternoon, he found me doing something similar but with carrot sticks and cream cheese. 

After a couple of days of this, Declan walked out of the kitchen carrying two plates.  On one were his sandwiches and on the other, were neatly cut up celery and carrot sticks.  He even put on the side, two small dipping bowls of peanut butter and cream cheese.

“Oh, Declan!”  My face lit up.

“Food is my department, remember?”  He kissed the top of my head.  “I can’t have your cravings putting me out of business.”

As was typical for pregnant women to crave odd things, I started to dip my celery sticks into Nutella as well as peanut butter.  Declan openly stared as I munched away.

“You’re not gonna start eating sardines and ice cream together, are you?”  He shook his head in disbelief.

“Shut up.”  I giggled.

Also, I noticed that he began to slowly build up the size of my meals.  If one night I craved more mashed potato, the following night I saw my serving had doubled or even tripled.  Then he watched closely as I polished off everything on my plate. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU AND YOUR CHILD ARE NOT IN ANY DANGER FROM US

  (Small Fry Chapter 2)

“Yesterday you frightened her, by trying to talk her out of having the baby.”  Ki frowned at Declan before looking to Caesar.  “With our appearance this morning, she must have thought we were trying to do the same thing.  It’s the Lokoti Werewolf in her, which is acting defensive.  She thinks she has to protect her baby.”

“Well, do I?”  I hugged my stomach, as if I were hugging my daughter.

“What?” Caesar blanched, as did all of the male Lokoti Werewolves. 

Suddenly the room was full of guilty expressions, except for my husband.

“Aunt B, no!  We certainly haven’t come here this morning, to try to force an abortion on you!  We came here to scan you and the baby and come up with a strategy on how to see you safely through this pregnancy.”  Caesar promised.

“Oh really?”  I looked on skeptically.

YOU AND YOUR CHILD ARE NOT IN ANY DANGER FROM US – Caesar thought my way – WE ARE ACTING TODAY TO ENSURE YOU REMAIN OUT OF DANGER.

“Seriously?”  I asked, still suspicious. 

“Aunt B, you’re going to need our help when it comes to the delivery.”  Ki spoke frankly.  “I’m willing to bet this won’t be as straight forward as a human delivery.  Caesar will be putting the entire pack on standby for the day you give birth, incase you need the blood of your kin to heal.”

“Are you for real?” I blinked in disbelief. 

“I’m going to scan you once a week and track your baby’s development.”   Ki organized.  “Your daughter will no doubt be bigger than a human child, but we’re unsure yet of her growth rate.  That, and I have to make sure your body is able to carry the child to term, or if you’ll make it to the last trimester.”

Then my husband surprised everyone, when he stood up to say firmly, “If B needs blood, it’s going to be me that gives it to her.”

“But Uncle Declan, we don’t know how much blood Aunt B will need -” Ki began but he was interrupted.

“B is MY mate and she’s carrying MY child.  If she needs blood, then it’s gonna come from me.”  He said determinedly.

Our Medicine Man opened his mouth to argue, but our First spoke instead.

“Uncle Declan is a European Werewolf and Aunt B is carrying a half European Werewolf.  It might be best for both Aunt B and the baby, if Uncle Declan does this.  Especially since European Werewolves are the fastest healers, of all of the breeds.”

Forrest pointed out to Ki, “Think of when Jenny delivered your three kids and how you opened your wrist for her.  Didn't you want to provide for your mate in that manner, let alone have another Werewolf do it?” 

“Fine,” he looked away, disliking that his medical opinion was being disputed.

 

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