Dragoncrest Cliffs dope, my crew is ill,

The pups were a month old now. They were growing fast, totally mobile (if not very coordinated), with fully functioning eyes and ears. She and @Thuringwethil were beginning the weaning process. Wildfire was so happy that all four of them were still alive and well, even though it was sometimes challenging to corral so many rambunctious youngsters. It wasn't easy, though it was markedly easier than her first round of motherhood.

She felt confident enough to leave the den for an hour today, after asking @Tirgatao and one of the older kids (@Artaax or @Blixen) to keep watch over the pups, since the commander was otherwise preoccupied. Wildfire hadn't gone far from the den before a strange voice called her name from the borders. The Feisripa halted, blinking at the unexpected summons. She didn't recognize the voice.

Nonetheless, she made her way toward its source. There were two wolves waiting well outside the boundaries. Wildfire stayed within the territory as she studied them. One was silver, the other gold. After a brief assessment, the Feisripa barked for them to come closer. She didn't want to leave the relative protection of the pack's claim (she hadn't set foot outside Drageda since her return).

"I'm Wildfire," she said, glancing between the two of them, "and you must be a Blackthorn." Her chestnut gaze trailed over the yearling's telltale stripe. He was paler than his presumed relatives, though the resemblance was really unmistakable. "Are you from Redhawk Caldera?" she guessed, trying to figure out whether she might have met him during her stay. He looked young, so she was willing to bet he'd only been a pup then. That meant he was... "Lucca? Or Tegan?"