Sleeping Dragon i want a eulogy while my body is still warm

When the commander dropped to the ground, Wildfire immediately gravitated toward her, ignoring the stitch in her chest as she folded herself down beside Thuringwethil. She suddenly recollected their first meeting, when they had shared sleeping quarters on Redtail Rise. Just like that, the pincers around her heart and lungs eased. Her lips twitched at the corners, though the smile did not quite reach her amber eyes. They slanted in the Heda's direction as she whispered vague details of the vivid dreams that plagued her.

For a long moment, the yearling said nothing, wondering if Thuringwethil would say anything more. She didn't and the silence stretched, though not uncomfortably. During it, the Delta scooted closer, arcing in the opposite direction, their bodies crescents facing one another. She couldn't help but arch out her smudged snout, the tip of which touched against the Alpha's cheek in another gesture of comfort. She reflected on the commander's words, then drew in a long breath.

"I don't know what they were trying to tell you," she exhaled, pausing for a very long beat before adding, "but there's something I'd like to tell you." Even as the words slipped off her tongue, Wildfire's heartbeat suddenly ratcheted up to what felt like twice its usual speed. She really didn't want to have any regrets if her life was going to end—and, dramatics aside, it very well could end if the situation didn't improve soon—and the idea of time running out before she could tell Thuringwethil about her strange but powerful feelings was intolerable, even if Wildfire felt sure the Heda would never reciprocate.

If she was going to die young—before she could experience a relationship again, or master her trades, or become a mother—she wanted to die with as few other regrets as possible.