Sleeping Dragon our backs tell stories no books have the spine to carry

While the rest of the pack feasted on the elk's carcass, Wildfire turned her attention back to the dead rodent. She gently lowered herself to the ground, keeping her weight on her right hip. She then tossed a foreleg over the dead pika and began to gnaw on it. As she slowly ate, her eyes followed the others' movements, particularly her mate's. She would have liked to accompany Thuringwethil as she socialized, yet the Bandrona knew it would be wiser to take it easy.

Her chestnut eyes continuously drifted back and forth over the group, gaze finally coming to rest on the pups. Three of them were gathered close together, with Thyri hanging out in the background. Wildfire paused in her consumption, licking her chops and watching them. She wished she wasn't such an invalid, as she would have liked to go over to them. She was incredibly close to Freyja but felt like she barely knew the others. She wanted to remedy that.

But her injuries really restricted her. She sighed quietly, pushing aside the rest of the small carcass and resigning herself to a bystander role. Wildfire was just glad that she was able to sit and observe, if not be more involved. At least she wasn't den-bound or worse. Despite her current limitations, a small smile settled on her lips.