Sleeping Dragon our backs tell stories no books have the spine to carry

She would have liked to be part of the hunting party, yet Wildfire was still recovering. The many shallow cuts, scrapes and bruises littered over her body were knitting well, especially thanks to Portia's due diligence, but the larger wound on her thigh would take longer to heal properly. It had swollen a bit painfully overnight and upon waking this morning, Wildfire couldn't resist the urge to nibble at the scab. She knew Portia would probably yell at her later but when she peeled away some of the dead skin, it wept pus and released some painful pressure. She cleaned the freshly broken skin carefully.

By the time of the gathering, the renewed bleeding had stopped and a new scab was already starting to form. Walking very carefully, Wildfire made her way to join the group. Upon arriving, she settled beside the commander, leaning her weight on her good hip and stretching out her opposite leg to let the ugly lesion rest. When Thuringwethil called for the group to eat, she didn't move. She simply watched, a quiet smile on her lips.

When Hush approached, Wildfire looked at him a little apprehensively, immediately feeling awkward. He presented a small rodent which smelled strangely sweet. Gingerly, the Bandrona bent down to sniff at it, her chestnut eyes flicking up to Hush as he retreated. She managed a grateful smile, then glanced over at the commander to see what she made of the treat.