Dragoncrest Cliffs my tongue is sour from the hunger of missing you

Despite the effort it takes to stand, Thuringwethil closes her eyes and enjoys the way the sun heats up her fur. It adds an extra fraction of energy she didn't have before. Portia's medicine over the last several days has worked wonders enough to get her to this point and the sun gives her that little boost to linger a while longer. It gives her the chance to stay on her feet long enough to find her oldest son trotting in her direction with a prize between his jaws. It seems she has missed out on so much over the last week or so, even with frequent visits, that she turns slowly and lowers her head to greet Artaax with a longer embrace of affection.

"Yu hon on dis?" she asks in a rough, unused voice. Artaax has shown hunting skills to impress those of his mother. A smile flutters on her lips as she thinks of Wildfire, anticipating her home soon.