Swiftcurrent Creek I'll be the one, if you want me to.

Her lashes fluttered, though Paarthurnax did not rouse at once. Instead she wrinkled her nose and squeezed her eyes shut against the harsh midday sunlight, tucked her muzzle closer to her flank as she curled tighter against the rear of her den wall. It was for those few fleeting, brief moments of waking from deep slumber that Paarthurnax basked in her drowsy contentment, before reality dropped its enormous weight on top of her once again.

She exhaled heavily, suddenly aware of how entirely alone she was. There had been many occasion when she'd roused to find herself without Shadow at her side, and she considered quietly that if she'd known the last time she'd been snug in his embrace would be the last time, she'd have made the very most of it.

Paar fought to push her heartache away and return to her dreamless sleep, but it failed to sweep her problems away. Defeated, the crimson Frostfur unfurled herself and blinked her dim eyes open. She straightened herself, shook her pelt and stepped out into the crisp Autumn afternoon.

A distraction was what she needed, and it was with a quick glance around her densite that she decided at once to go on a cleaning spree. Her hollow would need to be tidied and shaped in preparation for her newborns, padded with furs and dry grasses before Winter's chill claimed the vegetation. Striding forward, the lithe medic collected twigs and dead leaves that littered the entrance of her den and made to deposit them in a neat pile a short distance away from her little clearing.