Swiftcurrent Creek I hate what didn't kill me.

It's true, said the little female, and Paar dropped her vivid eyes. She hadn't been particularly close with Danica - in fact, she'd been somewhat wary of her. The golden wolfess never did seem too comfortable around her when it came to helping her with her injuries, and so the bi-coloured medic had not pursued any real friendship with her. But she understood her appreciation for the female form; in Samarkand, it was not uncommon for the sister-wives of Xerxes' harem to seek the company of one another when their husband was unavailable to tend to their needs.

Paarthurnax herself had never shared such experiences with her friends back home, but she'd never been particularly phased by it even as a yearling. Love came in so many forms that the gender of those involved didn't matter, as long as the relations weren't hurting anybody.

"No, it doesn't matter," Paar said softly, bumping her snout against the sodden underside of Bazi's chin. She didn't doubt that Danica was hurting over the rejection, and her heart sank at the thought. "Maybe in a few weeks, when the everyone's had some time to gather themselves, you could go visit her? Apologise for your reaction. Clear the air a bit." Paar smiled encouragingly. Someone could go with her for support, surely, if she wished. It just pained her that she would not be the one to hold her up, as her mothering instinct so drove her to wish.