Sycamore felt uneasy. It was one thing to be charmed by a buck into a quick tumble. It was another thing altogether to be expecting said buck's children. Rowan had gushed and gushed about the start of romance, but she held no such delusions. What was done was done and she knew that she could not count on him for support, only a fool assumed such things.
No, she had to be prepared to raise these children by herself. The task seemed daunting, but her father had assured her that a mare or stag would be able to help bless the children with health. So here she stood, under the trees where a mare had been sighted but a few days past.