Heron Lake Plateau restore me, restore life the way it should be.

"You know the consequences," Artaax bit out. Wildfire seemed to consider this a moment before replying, "The consequences are that my own family, my children, consider me a traitor. Some might even want my life for it. But they won't get it." Her eyes flashed momentarily, though it was with mostly sadness that she regarded her son. "I never subscribed to that belief, myself." And it hurt her deeply that he should think such threatening thoughts in the direction of his own mother and siblings, though she understood: she'd raised him in that culture, watched him develop almost a worshipful relationship with the commander.

Kiwi took her mother by surprise, albeit not in the way for which she had prepared herself. Kiwi pointed out nomi's absence and Wildfire felt a flare of indignation at the words. Why could Thuringwethil leave without consequence? Why was some other pack's war somehow more important than her own family? Of course, she didn't voice this question, nor say anything. That was just the way of Heda and all those "-gedas." That was part of why she'd had to leave in the end. She blinked loudly when Kiwi flipped the demand on Artaax. She had to bite back a mirthless laugh. If only Kiwi knew how absurd he would find that notion. Or would he...?

No, Wildfire didn't dare hope. But she looked to Artaax, wondering what he'd say to both of them, oblivious to the fact that Kiwi had spoken in a tongue that their guardian—Wildfire was still quite grateful for Quixote's continued presence—couldn't understand.