Dragoncrest Cliffs just know that you don't know

the doctor is in

The damndable weather just wouldn't let up. 

Tirgatao, once again—for what felt like the fiftieth time this month—was lying upon one of the elevated slabs in the communal caverns with her chin on her outstretched paws and her eyes fixated on the dark sprawl of the tunnels. Her belly was blessedly content, and a half-chewed bone sat forgotten beside her. She had no complaints about her health. No, Tirgatao was bored. Initially she'd scoffed at the idea: bored? A grown woman? But it was true. The weather kept them trapped here under the discretion of the Heda (which Tir abided by). 

But it wasn't just boredom. It was restlessness and unease. Between Portia (and now Wildfire's heat), the tensions in the cavern were at an all-time high. And, yet, she was unable to do her percieved duty as Shouna because she was still foreign to the tight-knit unit. Tirgatao never imagined that she would arrive in Drageda as a stranger. When she first spoke to Portia, she hadn't understood and even accused Drageda of failing their long upheld traditions. Now she did. She was foreign to them. Not the other way around.

Tir heaved a sigh and licked at her paw, the action soothing the rapid beat of her heart.