Redhawk Caldera you are blood and earth, not theory and chalk

She does not fully hear the words of agreeance but she knows what she means, anyway. Thuringwethil made a mistake in Wildfire’s eyes, even if she didn’t necessarily think she did. Perhaps she could have waited long, knowing her mate would have preferred to go home. Heda isn’t even sure she’d have agreed to it, given her condition. She doesn’t even want to argue about it but she also doesn’t want to accept that she’d made the wrong decision, knowing she really had. “I would never give up on you,” she says, resisting the urge to pull her closer and reassure her but she doesn’t feel this is what Wildfire needs. “We spent weeks looking for you. When Eske found Arlo, I… I refused to accept the same thing happened to you. And when we got here and your family opened up their home to us, we stayed. We stayed for a week or more and I didn’t want to overstay our welcome and I knew I had to get them home. I should have stayed and sent them back and waited, but Finley offered to take care of you,” she explains. It is the best she can do, the best she can offer in that moment. “I knew they would. I’m sorry I didn’t stay,” she says, sucking in a breath.

There isn’t anything she can do to change what happened, or the decisions she made, and leaving her behind has put some damage between them, something she doesn’t know how to repair. Instead of attempting to go home, when she had before, she is choosing to stay. Thuringwethil wants to fight the decision but if she hadn’t been willing to hurt her the first time, she isn’t going to do it now. Seeing—and hearing—how she is now, she knows the trip will not be good for her. Both she and Étoille are capable at protection, but she does not know his skill in healing and if something goes wrong on their way home, they have nowhere to turn to. “There will always be a place for you,” she tells her, this time unable to hold back and she leans in, taking Wildfire into another embrace. She holds her a moment longer. “The children miss you so much. They’ve grown.. they’re beautiful,” she adds, a little softer, though she does not speak of all that has happened. Later, perhaps, but for now. “And I love you, Wildfire, that hasn’t—won’t—change. I…” she pauses and then licks her lips, uncertain what to really say next. The idea is near preposterous but if it’s what needs to happen, it will. “I will stay here, if you want me to, until you’re better.” I won’t leave you again.

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