Dragoncrest Cliffs Beyond the basement

She hated being trapped in the cave during the storm. It awoke memories of her first summer, when she had very nearly become entombed underground during similarly inclement weather. It didn't help that the rain and wind showed no signs of ceasing; they battered Drageda for days on end. If not for her children—normally well-behaved but understandably fussier with each passing day—Wildfire might have gone mad.

"Robin," she admonished this morning when her youngest bit her tail hard enough to draw blood. "Too rough." She loved that he showed promise as a hunter—especially having recently taken up the mantle herself again—but that hurt. "What do you say?" she said brusquely, glowering until the puppy gave her a meek, "Sorry, mama."

"C'mere," she said after a moment, sighing as she gathered her child in her arms. She cast her eyes about for the other two but they had wandered away. Wildfire felt a flash of horror—what if Artaax and Blixen had wandered away into one of the offshoots and become lost?—but then she saw them playing with each other across the cavern. And, much closer at hand, there was a small, bumbling Sirio.

"What'cha doing there, Sirio?" she called out fondly to the youngster, still clutching Robin to her breast.