Dragoncrest Cliffs the moon plays the ocean like a violin

She barely slept, attuned to her mate's every movement and discomfort as if they somehow shared blood, bone and nerve endings. Wildfire wished there was something she could do to help Thuringwethil, though aside from Portia's ministrations, the only thing that would knit her wounds was time. Meanwhile, the Bandrona's chestnut eyes peeled open sleepily as she regarded the commander, frowning thoughtfully as she raised her head, then pushed herself upright to inch closer. She didn't touch the Heda, just in case it might cause discomfort.

Wildfire opened her mouth to say something when a by now familiar sensation fluttered in her midsection. "Thur," she breathed quietly. Knowing it was painful for the dark she-wolf to move, Wildfire forewent her earlier hesitation and ever so gently pressed her rounded side to the Heda's nearer leg. "Can you feel it? They're moving." A broad but serene smile crawled over her face. "I like to imagine they're waving and saying, 'Hi, nomi!'"