Sleeping Dragon but stars burn out, my dear, and everything golden dies

Thuringwethil doesn't have a lot of time to react to the sentiment. She doesn't have time to think about what it might mean. She doesn't even have time to notice he warmth spreading through her cheeks and the feeling of ease resting within her.

What the fuck?

Slate eyes lift instantly to the mouth of the small cave, past Wildfire to the dark figure. Magpie doesn't contrast the sky behind them and as she feels a whirl rush through her, she doesn't understand what's unfolding. The leader had been far too distracted with the conversation of her companion that noting anyone approaching hadn't come to her attention. Within seconds, Thuringwethil is standing to attention and glaring at Magpie.

She doesn't even remember the two women are related, and assumes her advisor is here only because of the impending war. Her jaw tightens and she stiffens her posture, though she doesn't know what to do. For a second, she considers telling Wildfire to leave so they could talk but she knows nothing more will change. The decision to storm the phoenixes is planted firmly in the rise of the sun. Heda does not speak, tightening her jaw, as she waits for her explanation.