Sleeping Dragon "I love you, Crona."

Wildfire was afforded a front row seat to what eventually turned into an execution. It almost seemed like the she-wolf didn't try to get away, or at least her effort came far too late. With deadly prowess and expertise, Thuringwethil and Dio fell upon her, swift to deal a fatal blow. The Bandrona blinked but did not move. She couldn't understand why the stranger had come here to antagonize them in the first place, then scarcely tried to save her own neck. Perhaps this had been some sort of suicide mission?

They would never know, for she soon lay dead at their feet. Wildfire continued standing still, peering at the lifeless body rather dispassionately aside from a slight furrow in her brow. She then glanced up at her comrades to see if either of them had sustained any wounds in the short altercation. She wasn't a medic but she could still help tend to them, the commander especially. The yearling knew Thuringwethil didn't need anyone to look after her but she still considered it part of her wifely (for lack of a better term) duties.