Sleeping Dragon Out of my league

Wildfire bobbed her head as if in agreement. Floki had told her a bit about both his parents, naturally, and while she had only met Thistle once or twice, she had sensed the fierceness deep down inside the grieving widow. It was kind of frightening, actually, how a bond could run so deep that when it broke (through death), it also shattered the wolf left behind so completely. She might have envied such a passionate romance once upon a time, even considered that kind of love idyllic, but the significantly more worldly Wildfire suddenly realized how all such relationships inevitably ended: with a breakup or death. Every marriage ended in heartache of some variety or another.

She hadn't meant to have that little epiphany just now. The yearling blinked, amber eyes gone a little glassy, and looked down at her feet. It was a bleak and sobering realization, yet she couldn't deny the truth of it. Would she ever find love again? Did she even want to? Had Floki—and Goober—left her as permanently damaged goods? Why was she having all these thoughts while standing here in front of Gyda?

Catching herself, she blinked upward and offered her leader a soft and partially apologetic look. "Got caught up in my thoughts, just then," she admitted, then shuffled her feet a bit. "I feel like I've taken up enough of your time for one day. Think I'm going to head out and hunt..." She squinted over her shoulder, eyeballing the beautiful April landscape, assured that the gorgeous weather would draw out all sorts of prey for her to capture. "Would you like me to bring you back anything?" she offered, black tail beginning to wave as she regarded the silver queen a final time.