In the middle of a ring of high mountains, somewhere in the Great Land, there lived a herd of people. They had settled there countless generations ago and had no plans of leaving, since the terrain was absolutely perfect for life; an endless supply of clean water ran down from the mountains and helped nourish the dense forest that covered most of the expanse. That provided wood, shelter and safety for the people, but there was also plenty of sunshine for growing crops and raising livestock.

Castiel was a member of that herd. He had always been extraordinarily handy and built his house by himself. He had a plot of land that he owned where he grew crops and raised sheep for wool. Spinning yarn and making clothes suited him well, too, and most of what he wore had been made solely by himself. The only part of life that Castiel was missing was that he had not mated. Unfortunately for him, the herd was just shy of an extra alpha male that could breed him. It didn't usually bother him except for when spring was ending and the mating season was coming to a close; eggs were being laid and mated couples were preparing themselves for childrearing, all the while Castiel's few fertile years were being burned away.

"Cas? Cas?"

There was a rapping outside of Castiel's house. The herd didn't really have doors aside from long pieces of straw that were embedded into the clay foundation and hung down like beads. Busy preparing a meal, Castiel set down his bone knife and went to the door.

"Did you see my clutch?"

A young redheaded woman stood there with a bundle of fabric in her arms.

"No," said Cas. "Come inside and I'll look."

The woman nodded and followed Castiel into his abode. It was all one room, like most of the herd's houses, with a nest in the corner, a wooden table for eating, a stone slab for food preparing and another wooden table for general handiwork. He had made two windows, too, that were small gaps high up in the clay walls. The midday sun beamed through them and provided substantial light.

"Here they are," the woman said with a smile. She sat down on a woolen pillow and opened her arms just enough to show three eggs. They were about the size of an ostrich's.

"Three?" asked Cas.

"Yes," the woman replied. "I was scared we would only have one. So scared. But it worked out well."

Cas looked at the eggs and frowned. "But, Anna, surely the number wouldn't change your love for them, right?"

"No," the woman apparently called Anna said, "But it would bother me to have such bad luck!"

Cas didn't agree. There was a saying in the herd where one egg was bad luck. It was thought to mean that the mother wasn't healthy. The elders claimed they had seen one egg clutches before and the babies always died, but nobody else could confirm.

"It doesn't matter," Anna continued. She wrapped the eggs again and held them close. "They're here now and I'm happy."

"You should be. Can I offer you anything?"

"No, I'm fine," Anna beamed. "There's little more I could want other than my eggs. But, Cas…"

Cas got up and went to his stone table to continue cutting vegetables. He eyed Anna and thinned his lips.

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"What?" asked Cas.

"Mating season is ending once more and you are still unmated."

"There's no point in questioning that," Cas grumbled, "Since there aren't any unmated alphas left. What am I supposed to do?"

Anna sighed. She patted her bundle of eggs gently and looked down to the floor with a sad frown. "When the caravans come…maybe…"

"No," Cas interrupted. His voice had suddenly grown stern.

There were two kinds of herds in the Great Land—those that settled and those that constantly traveled by caravan. Every so often, different traveling herds would come through the valley with new seeds and supplies to sell. But Cas didn't like the traveling herds. They were too much like packs of people. Herds were gatherers but packs were hunters, and the two never got along. They seemed dangerous to herds.

"But…Cas…"

Sliding his vegetables into a wooden bowl, Cas kept his eyes fixed on Anna, waiting for her to continue. He didn't want to be scolded but it seemed he had no other choice.

"You know that we betas are only fertile for a few years."

"I know," Cas answered shortly. "I'm very well aware."

"We usually stop around, what, twenty four? Twenty five?"

"Yes."

"And how old are you?" Anna looked down to her eggs again.

"Twenty four."

"If you want to breed, you ought to hurry up."

"It's fine," Cas said in a hurried voice, desperate to change the subject. "I'm fine with not breeding. There are plenty of things I can do for the herd without being mated. Now if you excuse me, I need to keep cooking."

"Oh, right. I'll…I'll talk to you later, then."

Anna left with her clutch and Cas sighed. Of course he wasn't "fine" with being unmated, but he couldn't tell Anna how terrible it made him feel. With minor contempt in his heart, he took his vegetables outside of his house and around to the back where he had a fire going and a pot hanging over it. Water boiled within. He dumped the vegetables inside and took a seat on the single log beside it, now stirring the pot with a wooden spoon.

The sun was high overhead and beamed brilliantly through the fresh green leaves of the canopy. Cas looked up and watched as forest birds twittered about, bouncing from branch to branch. They were no doubt all nest owners, proud parents of eggs.

"That's how nature works," Cas mumbled beneath his breath. He continued to slosh the stew around, holding the spoon tightly in his fist and wearing a firm frown on his lips.

"Castiel!"

A man's shout stirred Cas from his grumbling. He heard heavy, urgent footsteps coming towards him. Perking up, he saw that Gadreel, another member of his herd who was quite stately, was waving at him. He came to Cas' side.

"What is it?" asked Cas.

"Gabriel has just had his eggs," said Gadreel. He cleared his throat and did his best to hide a smile on his face. "There are four. Four!"

"Ah, that's good for you. I'm glad."

Gadreel laughed heartily and his eyes twinkled. He shook Cas' spoon-holding arm so hard that his stew spilled over the edge. "Come and see them, you must."

Cas forced a nod. "All right, I will. Let me just…ah…" He watched the water run down his pot and sizzle into the flame. "I'll come."

They both got up and he followed Gadreel to his house. It was larger than Cas' but still just one room. A few other members of the herd were gathered around. Gabriel's sing-songy voice could be heard within.

"Hold on, hold on!" he called out. Gadreel parted the people aside and went right inside. Cas followed glumly.

"Here," said Gadreel, "Look at our clutch."

"Hey, Cas," Gabe said with a grin. He was sitting in their large nest with his arms around some fabric. Cas got close and peered. "Check them out."

Four lightly golden eggs were huddled close to Gabriel's chest. They were so freshly laid that the shells were still slightly soft.

"What do you think?" asked Gadreel. He couldn't hide his excitement anymore and his usual stoic expression had turned into complete elation. Cas smiled.

"Four is a high number," the unmated beta said. "That's lucky. You're fortunate. How was it, Gabe?"

Gabe shrugged. "Not too bad. Felt weird having the four in me. I had a hunch there were a lot. Must suck for you, though."

"Hm?" Cas asked, raising his eyebrows. The comment took him by surprise.

"Well, you know," Gabe continued, wearing a cheeky grin now, "Seeing my beautiful eggs when you don't even have an alpha."

"Gabriel," Gadreel warned. He nestled beside him and touched his arm, glaring. "Be kind to him."

"I guess," Cas muttered. He felt bad now, even though Gadreel was sensitive to his feelings. "I'm happy for you. I don't hold any resentment. And I'm glad that our herd continues to grow. But, I was in the middle of cooking and I really should get back to it."

"Okay, okay, fair enough," Gabe said. He leaned against Gadreel's arm and closed his eyes. "Do me one favor—tell the folks outside that they can come back later. Mama needs his rest!"

"Right. I will."

Cas gave a small bow before leaving. He did just as Gabriel asked and told the visitors to go home. They were disappointed but listened regardless, all turning around with anxious smiles. Cas wasn't as happy. He went back to his pot of stew and sighed.