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Veritas didn't answer her question, probably because she was busy deftly slaying a small rabbit. Wildfire straightened in surprise as she watched the events unfold just a few feet away. She jerked when the she-wolf haphazardly tossed the carcass in her direction. Although the intention seemed benevolent enough—and Wildfire often gave others the benefit of the doubt anyway—she felt a pulse of distaste at the implication that her pack couldn't fend for itself in the winter. She was one of Moonspear's up-and-coming small game hunters, so it pressed a pretty specific button.

But she wasn't one to anger easily, so Wildfire just shrugged off the likely unintended insult, while simultaneously ignoring the dead rabbit, at least for the moment. Instead, she moved forth to inspect where the rabbit had been foraging, since it was where Veritas's attention focused now. Her amber eyes dragged over the half-eaten daffodil blossoms, the sight of them stirring a very early memory of trying to gobble one after seeing a portly puppy Nightjar do the same. They tasted awful, if memory served.

Veritas drug one of the plants out of the soil by its roots before explaining some of its medicinal properties to Wildfire. "Amputate a limb?" she blurted incredulously. "How often do you have to do that?" She peered dubiously at the unearthed plant. How could that wilted little flower take away the agony of something like having a limb removed, she couldn't help but wonder.