Dragoncrest Cliffs Like this body of conflict

Nearly a week had passed since the miscarriage and Wildfire hadn't left the tree much. The heartbreak was made even worse by the knowledge that she shouldn't try again should the opportunity arise. Twice now she had produced defective offspring. And though she had brought about four perfectly healthy pups too, Wildfire couldn't stop thinking of Antler, Falcon and Hawk, and how there must be something wrong with her genes—not Dio's, not Étoille's—hers.

She felt stiff and, well, a little crusty after staying in her proverbial bed for the better part of a week, so Wildfire forced herself outside today. Although the air was cold, it was mostly sunny and the Feisripa enjoyed the warmth on her back as she sought out a nearby patch of open ground and plopped down to begin grooming herself. Toward the end of her tongue bath, she hiked her leg in the air and smoothed out the paler fur along her belly. The small swell of it gave her pause but Wildfire quickly put her leg back down and sat up straight. She had only just lost the pups, so it was probably normal to still show some signs of pregnancy until the hormones settled.

Feeling suddenly restless, the damp huntress flicked to her feet and began roaming the woods, trying to get her mind off things by rustling up some grub.