Lion Head Mesa i go forwards, you go backwards, and somewhere we will meet

dirt, blood—her heart was in her throat. she wrapped her fed, slumbering cubs in mink furs warmed by her and, after ensuring their comfort and that they slept deeply still she moved them to where they might not know her distress this day.
it was not Zaahira’s blood. she smelled the blood of her Hebsut! she reaches for a paw, bright eyes wide with worry. what had happened? and was her Jodai alright?! words caught in her throat—she could not yet ask what she wished, for that same worry created a knot in her throat that bobbed as she swallowed. but very clearly was each concern written across her face!