Emberflame Ridge Aftershock

Returning from Larksong's borders, Warbone took his medicine in stride and retained that he felt nary a blow to his pride. He had to trivialize it; so it came that he had merely been charitable to Octavia— made sure she had returned safely to the Grotto, as well— and he now ignored his gaping loneliness by focusing on the fact that she would show him kindness if he should ever find a need for it. He blinked, turning his mind away from the thought entirely as he realized his path had brought him back towards the Ridge. He looked over his shoulder, towards Sleeping Dragon, and as he did so, a flash of red became caught in his peripheral, and he found himself watching Wildfire fall.

Taking up a steady lope, he saw that she got up quick enough, seemingly shaking off her tumble (as if it happened all the time!) before continuing on her way— and at twenty feet away he slowed and hailed her with a greeting bark; sonorous, and warmer than he intended. It was getting harder to mask his desire for company. The Dragons had completely ruined his desire to be alone. "I suppose that is one way to get to know the slopes, little Fire," he said, when he was near enough, coming to a loose halt some respectable length away.