Dragoncrest Cliffs Our hearts beat as one, butterfly

She didn't realize she was staring off into space until Thuringwethil shuffled closer and spoke. Wildfire blinked and twitched at the touch of a warm tongue, automatically turning into the gesture and returning it. She coaxed her cheek muscles to shift into a faint smile, though it didn't reach her chestnut eyes. She regarded the commander in silence for a beat, deliberating whether to tell her how she felt or just keep a lid on it. Wildfire almost immediately decided not to mention it; she didn't want to ruin the Heda's good spirits. The feelings, inexplicable as they were, would surely pass.

"Hey," she breathed back after a momentary pause. She turned, naturally, to gaze down at the four squirming bundles at her breast. "Can you believe they're here?" The words felt hollow and panicky in her mouth. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and not in a pleasant way. She was going to give herself away, if she wasn't careful. "Do you think you could watch them for a moment while I step outside?" was the next question out of her mouth.

Nudging the infants off her teats, Wildfire rose onto all fours and slipped from the den. She didn't go far, just walked behind the log to relieve herself. Everything from her abdomen downward ached and throbbed something awful. She winced, eyes closing against the spring sunshine. She thought of her potty break last night and Antler's abrupt arrival. She sucked in a breath and opened her eyes. Maybe she was just mourning their lost little one.

Within sixty seconds, she was back in the den, instinctively curling around their young. She reached out to lick their heads, yearning for a connection she simply couldn't feel right now. Wildfire did not cease her ministrations, however. Mechanically, she went about bathing the newborns, keeping her attention focused on them and avoiding Thuringwethil's eyes.