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

As Wildfire withdraws from the embrace, she knows instantly she has said the wrong thing. She knew a moment before, too, but Heda won out and spoke separately from Thuringwethil. They are warriors, they have trained and practiced and while they are young, they are not exempt from battle anymore. Thuringwethil wants them in harm’s way anymore than Wildfire but seeing the pain and hurt across her face makes her deflates and she opens her mouth to speak (and say what?) but nothing comes out and instead, her mate turns and runs off. Thuringwethil takes a few steps forward, as if to follow, but she’s reminded of where he is quickly and she lets the hurting woman disappear from view.

She watches for a long moment, feeling a tremble in her form but she shuts it out completely, closes her eyes, and takes a moment to mental prepare herself. This is not the drama she needs to have in Redhawk Caldera, but she doesn’t want to leave it, either. Thuringwethil licks her lips, shifts her weight and steels her nerves, and then glances over to Eljay as he takes Wildfire’s absence as cue. Her features do not alter as he approaches, neither happy nor upset he has approached, and he looks back at @Étoille over her shoulder, gesturing with her muzzle for him to come closer.

The damage is done and now she has to do something with the new information Wildfire has given her. For now, she can focus on that, and Elwood’s approach abruptly forces her to. When she opens her mouth to speak, she catches a flash of Finley and she waits only a few seconds to respond.

“Hux returned to Drageda without your dismissal,” she says with a pause, wondering if they’d even noticed (or needed him in the first place), but he’s mostly been dealt with already. “He said Wildfire was awake and doing better—” but clearly not— “and that she would return in the spring. I wanted to see her. I’m sorry for the untimely arrival, and not waiting on an appropriate messenger, but I didn’t know if one would be sent since Hux returned.” Thuringwethil releases a breath slowly and glances between the two, her voice even and calculated as most things in her life. “She was just here and told me what happened and who is at fault,” she tells them a beat later but this time her voice darkens—pained, perhaps—and it is clear she doesn’t need an invitation to lay waste of Blackfeather Woods.

426