Whitebark Stream you have the universe in your veins

Following the morning of the anticlimactic battle, Wildfire decided to keep her distance from the pack's leadership. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with Thuringwethil—she most certainly did—but there were two reasons for her avoidance of the black Alpha. Firstly, she couldn't make sense of her own feelings toward the commander, nor explain her heartfelt confession from that evening a week ago. She kind of wanted to sort it out before she approached Thuringwethil again. Secondly, she didn't want to exacerbate the issue between herself and Magpie. She couldn't be sure but she sensed it had to do with the Heda herself, not just the failed war. On that note, it was probably pretty obvious why she left her aunt well enough alone.

She kept busy trying to integrate into the pack by mapping the lay of the land, acquainting with her comrades and adding to the caches. She was busily doing the latter when she spotted a black figure loping southwest away from the mountain. Wildfire paused over the stump where she had just made her deposit, squinting, feeling a dip in her belly when she recognized Thuringwethil. Despite herself, the yearling broke into a light trot, shadowing the commander's steps. She followed her right out of the territory, always keeping her distance and staying out of view. When the black she-wolf slowed near the stream, Wildfire slipped behind the pale trunk of a birch, her amber eyes peeking out as Thuringwethil waded into the cool water.