Dragoncrest Cliffs i’m hoping that after this fever i’ll survive

Many of the pack’s most important members knew about the threat. Meerkat let out a long breath, then shivered again. She kept one ear cocked toward her husband, though she scanned their dark surroundings. Everything was quiet. It was difficult to comprehend the danger that lurked, unseen and unpredictable.

Her eyes cut sharply to his face when Njord mentioned an argument. Only now did Meerkat really take a moment to notice her mate’s agitated state. It starkly reminded her of a week past, when he’d growled at her. The way he rumbled about—she couldn’t be sure which leader he meant—made her stomach roll.

You argued? With who? she asked at the same moment he clasped her by the wrists and demanded a promise out of her.

But they can’t be moved, Meerkat blurted the first thought that occurred to her. Her face scrunched. How many times do I have to tell you, I won’t be parted from you? You and I—and the rest of the pack—will protect the boys.

This time, there was no anger behind the words, only determination and the love of a mother, a wife. She gently shook him off and then raised her forepaws to cup his face, commandeering his eye line. Meerkat didn’t say anything further, just stared into his soul for a moment.

Then she gently released him and looked around, saying, Maybe it won’t come here. Maybe it’ll smell us and leave…

With the night so calm around them, it was once again difficult to conceptualize the threat or what exactly they ought to be doing at the moment. Meerkat supposed they were already doing it: standing guard over their most vulnerable.

What did you argue about, exactly? she asked, trying to distract herself.