Dragoncrest Cliffs Widowmaker

Wildfire's jaw muscles tightened when Thuringwethil lifted her lip. Rank should have no place in their relationship, as the Bandrona had tried to relay in the past (much to the duress of said relationship), but the commander had never seemed to be on the same page. She said nothing else before exiting the den. Wildfire's ears briefly splayed at the tension in the air but she swiftly redirected her attention to Artaax and the other pups, herding them into a pile beside her flank.

"I'm sorry I'm such a terrible mother," she confessed in a whisper against the eldest's fuzzy forehead, eyes closing. She nudged him in particular toward a teat, then drew in a breath as she waited for Portia's eventual arrival. Fortunately, the Bandrona would turn out to be correct—she would be fine, as the the bite was either dry or she was immune to the black widow's venom—but it certainly wouldn't hurt to have the Fisa do a checkup.