Redhawk Caldera you are blood and earth, not theory and chalk

Like an overloaded computer, her brain seemed to shut down, hard drive wiped and screen blank. Before she could even think about trying to reboot her systems somehow, Thuringwethil was right there, a cool nose against an overheated red cheek. Without thinking, Wildfire leaned into the touch, eyes closing. For a moment, she simply breathed in her mate's (and their children's, and their home's) familiar scent, before abruptly collapsing onto her hindquarters.

Fortunately, she didn't go sprawling or swooning. Her legs simply gave out and she sat, though she remained upright and leaned gently into the commander. "Thur..." she murmured, not really any more sure of what to say than how to feel. Her emotions had been so utterly mixed up over the past few weeks and now they just seem to have left her entirely. There was no more anger or resentment, yet no real joy or relief either. She just felt totally benumbed.

She knew there were so many things she should ask. Why are you here? How are the children? What do we do next? But Wildfire was no better at mustering up words than she was emotions at the moment. Her watery chestnut eyes lingered on the Heda's familiar face before screwing up suddenly in the second before one, two, three sneezes burst out of her muzzle, splattering Thuringwethil with a gooey mixture of mucus and saliva.