Dragoncrest Cliffs You are wildings: untamed, unholy, ungod

Yes.

Thuringwethil releases a breath, keeping a focus on the opening and from her positon she can see enough. Wildfire starts to clean the second girl and she watches from a distance though details are lost on her for the time being. It doesn’t matter what they look like as long as they are healthy and she’s already been assured everything is fine. She remembers this from the year before, wondering what lays out before them and who they’ll turn out to be and she’s sure she’ll be just as proud as this group as she is the first, and their family will still remain intact.

Six months ago she couldn’t picture this moment even if she tried.

After a while, Wildfire asks about her and Thuringwethil one shrugs one not-so-sore shoulder. “Nothing,” she assures her. Nothing that she needs to worry about right now. “Blixen and I brought a deer home, filled the nearest cache with it,” she tells her, though it’s vague, and a point of her nose to the food she brought with her, "I'm fine." With closer inspection, it’s evident her wounds are not produced by a deer but at her distance she can cover it up—at least until all this is over and they’re on the other side.