Sleeping Dragon Music sounds better with you

Wildfire woke with a start, just barely extracting herself from the commander's warmth and pitching out of the den before the previous night's dinner rushed up her throat and splattered at her feet. She heaved several times, her abdominal muscles clenching as her stomach emptied. After the convulsions passed, she breathed heavily, sour saliva dribbling from her mouth to join the puddle of sick. When she was able to recollect herself properly, she grimaced, wiped her mouth and then promptly kicked soil over the vomit, burying it.

She was tempted to slither back into the den and go back to sleep, yet the cool November air felt good on her heated skin. Wildfire sat, though the stench of her own breath made her frown again and she rose onto all fours, padding several dozen yards away to find the nearest stream and rinse her mouth. The icy water felt like a stone in her stomach, though it seemed to settle it somewhat. Sighing and smacking her cold lips, the Bandrona began to thread slowly alongside the small waterway, wondering what had made her sick.