The Floodlands But I don’t get out much these days

Wildfire didn't feel very well today. She had nearly tossed her breakfast, though she'd managed to keep it down. Still, a vague queasiness lingered, as well as a general feeling of malaise. She knew it was likely due to the pregnancy, though she also knew the recent bad news hadn't helped. She had moved on long ago, yet the news of Thuringwethil's passing still struck her down like a heavy blow.

She didn't want to subject Eljay to her melancholy—it just felt inappropriate—so she went off on her own rather than seek the comfort of companionship. She considered paying a visit to Raven, then decided against it; she didn't feel up to the trip. Wildfire ended up moseying around the copse, stopping at a puddle to take a long drink to help settle her stomach.

She was sitting there, staring into space, when the call rose up in the air. Wildfire didn't react immediately, other than to owlishly blink her chestnut eyes. She wasn't hungry and didn't want to hunt, especially not in her condition, but she'd told Colt and Niamh that she wanted to get together. Well, she'd have to sit on the sidelines, but she could show up, at the very least.

The Sovereign was the last to arrive for the impromptu rendezvous. She sidled over to Eljay, slipping her charcoal-dusted snout beneath his chin, then looked over at the other pair. "Hey guys. I'm not feeling too well today but I didn't want to leave you hanging," she offered apologetically.