Redhawk Caldera unrequited sass

She sat still despite the tension she felt in each of her muscles. It was oddly easy to wait. Though certainly dramatic, this place was perhaps the most consistent thing in Magpie's life; to be within its foothills was almost a comfort. The longer she waited, however, the more she realized this had been another one of her jacked up, why-do-you-keep-fucking-up-Magpie, I-mean-really-Magpie-why-do-you-keep-doing-this-to-yourself kinds of decisions. Just as she was about to give up on her nerve and retreat, leaving nothing but her scent behind, a woof broke the silence and the she-wolf winced. Her entire posture wilted, actually, knowing there would soon be a lancing pain at her throat.

When Magpie finally looked, she was surprised to see that it was Wildfire— perhaps the last wolf she expected to see here. Her chartreuse eyes narrowing in confusion, "Wildfire, what—" are you doing here, the Corvidae had wanted to ask. But the pair had been interrupted almost immediately by the gray agouti female that had been Fox's second. She said nothing in response, noting the tension in Finley's greeting. Instead, Magpie merely sulked and tried not to roll her eyes at the way the woman spoke to Wildfire, as if she were still a pup.