Dragoncrest Cliffs If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be

“No, no, I’m not mad at you,” she reassures, shaking her head. It’s over with and, as her mate says, everyone is back. They’ll move on now. They’ll put the war behind them—though she knows that’s never the case—and the spring will bring them a new year. The winter, as most things, has gotten old. It was where she’d grown up, once upon a time, where days were are more often cold than they are not. “Yes,” she says a moment later, shifting her weight and lowering back to the ground. This time, she’s a little closer to her mate, despite the weird discomfort it puts on some of the sore parts of her body. Another shift and it’s better. “I’m glad it’s over,” she says, leaning in o the fiery woman and resting her head across her front legs as a child would their mother in need of comfort.