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

A final small knot in her chest loosened when Thuringwethil insisted she wasn't angry with her. Wildfire exhaled, staying still as her mate situated herself. When the heavy weight of her great black head came to rest on the Feisripa's forelegs, she bent and licked gently, comfortingly, at her ears.

"Me too," she agreed between passes of her tongue. "Let's focus on the present now. And the future," she added thoughtfully. She paused, deliberating for a solid minute. Thuringwethil was so tired, she wasn't sure she should raise the subject right now. But perhaps it would lift her battered and bruised spirits? "Last year, my heat returned after about a month. Perhaps," she said slowly, "we have that to look forward to?"