Sleeping Dragon baby you're a song

There was green sprouting everywhere and Wildfire knew this meant the herds would return, yet the recovery for both the land and the wolves who inhabited it would be a slow, gradual process. By now, the yearling herself was frighteningly skinny, the knobs of her spine and ridges of her ribs evident beneath her dull red coat. But she had caught enough small game here and there over the past few days to fill in some of the gauntness of her face, at the very least.

In fact, she finally managed to catch a fish from the Qeya, a big one too. She fed on its head, then decided to take its tail to a pack mate. In lieu of Thuringwethil, she decided to head to Gyda's den and see if the pregnant Viking Queen could use the nourishment (surely she could). When she arrived at its mouth, she discovered Gyda yawning and stretching in the early morning sunlight. Wildfire smiled around the fish, only for it to fall when she saw the pained expression on her face.

Gently dropping the fish tail at her feet, the Delta queried, "Hey, Gyda, you okay?"