Swiftcurrent Creek If you're broken, I will mend you.

Only minutes passed, but to one so small and fragile, they felt like light years. Durnehviir began to pant, her tiny tongue lolling over her chin and depositing saliva until their was a pool of drool beneath her head. Often she ceased these heaving breaths to swallow - heat caused her mouth to salivate excessively. She whimpered pitifully, and wriggled in her place in attempt to try and attract her mother's attention.

When at last she returned, Durnehviir blinked up at her with stormy blue eyes filled with pleading, but the crimson wolfess did not meet her gaze. Instead, Paarthurnax tucked her daughter close and the child responded by burying her little snout among the feathery white fur of the adult's chest.

She squeezed her eyes shut and continued to shake, her mouth seeking and failing to find a teat that she wished for comfort. Instead, her dam shifted and nudged her away just enough to gain access to her tongue, which was once again dangling over her lower jaw as she fought to lower her temperature. Much to her surprise, a cool paste was forced into her mouth and, immediately, she began to work at it with her tongue. Its texture was disgusting and the taste repulsive, and so she promptly spat it back out onto her mother's forelimb.