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

It doesn’t make it any easier, even if Wildfire understands, because she’d already done the damage. She explains what’s wrong and now that she’s awake, and can make the decision to stay. It does not surprise her but she has to do what’s best. Wildfire knows her strengths, weaknesses, and limitations and Thuringwethil won’t push her, even if she wants to be there to help her. Returning her to Drageda would help the process, perhaps. She’d be around family, something familiar and she would find her way back to her real life, but she does not question her. If it is what’s best, Thuringwethil has to do that, and she doesn’t have to sacrifice her time away, nor leave the children without their other half.

They will wait for her, as long as it takes. Their family will be whole again, but in the meantime she’s faced entirely with the other half of the problem. The wolves that done this to her has to pay, they all know this—she promised Finley they would and Wildfire is all but asking—and Thuringwethil nods her head once. “We will figure this out,” she tells her despite all the muscles in her form flexing, her chest tightens a strangled breath, and she glances away briefly to see Eljay in the distance. Her head lifts a little to acknowledge him but she does not dismiss or invite him closer yet. She searches behind him, and to the other side, for either of the alphas of the caldera, but they have still not shown.

“They will pay for this. I will kill Cicero myself,” she says, shifting her weight. She nuzzles her nose close to Wildfire’s cheek but withdraws a little, and stands back to all fours. I’ll kill them all.

Thuringwethil is thankful she brought along Étoille. One of them can return to Drageda and gather their warriors and return with haste, though her mind centers wildly on all the possibilities and who will come. Since their rebirth, they have not seen true war and she feels the fire grow in her belly. “Can you tell me what you know about them? About him? What did they do to Arlo?” she asks, knowing she doesn’t have anything to go on, doesn’t know how much Finley or Elwood know, or even what Cicero looks like. Nor had she realized how much connection to Arlo they had, but it makes sense. If he’d been there with her, and dead now, it is obvious they’d been apart, despite Eske announcing there had been no foul play. “We will get Drageda here and fight with them.”

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