Qeya River I met this dude at Coachella

Sitting on the shore and hoping for a fish to swim by gave Wildfire a lot of free time. Her mind wandered, naturally. Lately, she found herself thinking a lot about her relationship with Floki. She had meant what she'd said to Gyda: she'd only ever wished him well, despite their sad ending. But now, with her head constantly pounding and her stomach collapsing in on itself, she picked at the scab. It bled. And it festered. She began to resent him deeply, maybe even hate him. But when she wondered whether he was suffering just as badly, her insides clenched. He had abandoned her during her darkest hour, yet still she could not wish this level of painful emptiness upon him.

After a time, Wildfire's mood had sunk so low that she caught herself and forcibly shoved Floki out of her mind. She tried to think of something that made her happy, to lift her spirits. Immediately she found herself thinking of Thuringwethil. By now, the yearling had been able to identify some of her feelings toward the Heda. She respected and admired the woman. She was fond of her. But she was also beginning to realize that her affections weren't strictly platonic. It felt alien, admitting it to herself, and the acknowledgement inspired a slight and inexplicable thread of panic in her chest. But Thuringwethil surely didn't reciprocate, a thought which soothed and reassured Wildfire's nerves. It didn't matter because nothing would ever come of any of it.

A splash startled her out of her deep thoughts. The fish disappeared long before Wildfire could react. She scowled, then decided to abandon this stupid, fruitless endeavor. She stood and turned, feeling a little heady and weak in the knees as she plodded along the riverbank. At this rate, she would perish before she ever had the chance to even contemplate admitting her feelings out loud—a thought which made the young Delta suddenly freeze in her tracks, fighting a sudden and terrifying shortness of breath.