Dragoncrest Cliffs swell of the sea

Wildfire doesn’t answer her question for clarification and she’s left confused, though Étoille agrees—or makes the sound that he agrees—and then offers to leave. Her eyes widen a little, glancing to her mate and back again, before she stammers out a hasty, “oh, no-no, I was looking for you.” Thuringwethil shifts awkwardly. Last year, Wildfire approached Dio and took care of the awkward part but standing in front of the wolf she wants to ask, she isn’t sure how to exactly do it. She’s always been to follow through but something feels weird and she can’t explain it. Certain that she looks like she’s lost in the last few seconds of panic, hoping to keep him here, she clears her throat. “Well, we were. We were wondering if you’d sire our litter this year,” she asks, and does her best to hold her gaze when she’s never felt the need to break away before.