Noctisardor Bypass nutria

She thought the pale Den Mother might sob, but nothing came of it. If she had, the witch would have done her best to comfort her, out of duty rather than some connection. Fiona vaguely comprehended whatever Heda was saying about the children, if only because her mind was elsewhere: Druid's condition.

Worry was a bit of a misnomer for what Fiona felt for Druid. She wasn't even sure if "sick" was the correct word for what was going on with the Den Mother. Sick was something that could be cured with a bit of time and patience. Druid was beyond sick. Her whole life had been turned upside-down, and she wasn't the wolf she remembered herself to be. Not only that, but the wolves around her—outside of Heda—barely seemed to notice. Anselm seemed to have some sort of inkling, but only after talking to Druid did Fiona realize just how bad it was.

It's more than that, Fiona said with a contemplative frown. It's going to take a long time for her to feel herself again.