Heron Lake Plateau First storm

”I like naming them in our family tradition, after birds they resemble,” she explained, ”And Quixote likes to name them after characters from stories he’s heard. So it’s kind of a weird mix-up but somehow, it works. In either case, we usually wait until they’re born to see how they look. How ‘bout you and Eljay?”

Wildfire’s second question sparked the anxiety in her heart that she tried to ignore most days even though it never went away. ”All of my first litter are still here except for Kite,” she answered, her mixed emotions clear on her face. ”She’s always been a little weak, she was born with a condition that makes her very jittery and uncoordinated, so I worry about her a lot.” She couldn’t understand where her daughter had gone or, if she had left voluntarily, why. She refused to entertain ideas that a predator had gotten her or that some sicko from another pack had gotten ahold of her...or worse, that she was already dead. Somewhere, in Raven’s mind, little Kite was happy and healthy and thriving. May not have been entirely rational, but where her kids were concerned, logic and rationality sometimes went out the window. ”Are all of your kids still around? Or...?” She realized that some may have left, or remained with the remnants of Drageda, or any number of other outcomes.