Kildeer Rest Bring back the summer

As Thuringwethil obliged her, Wildfire drifted over toward the shrub, touching her nose to the small leaves before her golden eyes flicked over to her companion, a silent reassurance that she was paying attention. It was a bit difficult for her to follow, especially coming from such a secular upbringing. She didn't have the first clue what a conclave might be, though as the other she-wolf finished, she supposed it sounded like a confrontation of some sort, maybe even a battle.

She had bent down to sniff at the tiny violet blooms when Thuringwethil's remark caused her to lift her head suddenly, brow quirking and lips twitching into an amiable smile. "You don't look much older than me," she observed with a twitch of her silken tail, "and I'm only a year old." She squinted, pausing and reflecting back on her own life in a series of rapid flashbacks. "But I know what you mean," she mumbled.

In the next moment, the young she-wolf suddenly buckled her legs, dropping to lay in the bed of flowers. She rolled gently onto her side, then flipped entirely onto her back, arching her head to look up at where Thuringwethil stood nearby. The angle exposed the long line of her faded throat, even baring the small scars there, but she didn't feel at all endangered. This was only their second encounter, yet Wildfire found she trusted the dark woman, just as Thuringwethil must trust Wildfire, to have offered her a space in her family.

"You should come down here," Wildfire invited, thumping her black tail invitingly.