Dragoncrest Cliffs Widowmaker

Wildfire's ears flattened as she watched her mate's hackles bristle. She felt a terrible cocktail of dismay and indignation welling up her throat. She had dreamed of becoming a mother so long, looked forward to it so much... and now everything was going horribly awry. The Bandrona swallowed thickly, turning away when Thuringwethil suggested she go see Portia. The commander didn't seem to find the matter particularly urgent, which hurt Wildfire's feelings, although even she understood that Artaax came first. That was the entire point.

For a split second, she thought of pretending to go to Portia's den, only to run off in some other direction. The pups would probably be better off if Wildfire left them in the Heda's care alone. But some instinct rooted her feet to the ground and she refused to bend or budge. "I'll be fine," she said, with no real idea if that was true. She moved to sink down in front of Thuringwethil and Artaax. If the commander indicated in any way that Wildfire should back off, the Bandrona ignored it. Even if Wildfire was struggling horribly with motherhood, this was still their son. "Is he okay? Let me see him." There was no "please."