Nocturne Summit should they catch us and dispatch us.

She sat there and stared for who knows how long, drawing in exhilarated breaths of the thinner, cooler mountain air. When she finally dragged her eyes away from the view, she looked up at Finley just in time to see the tear track slowly down her godmother's face. Wildfire blinked, lips parting and brow furrowing. At six months old, she didn't associate tears with just any high emotion. Tears meant sadness and/or pain, pure and simple.

"Aunt Flea!" she half-shouted. "What's wrong?" She gently moved to bump her head against Finley's shoulder, plopping down next to her so that their flanks were flush and she could lean gently and companionably into the silver adult.

Finley stared out across the world while the tears continued to fall. Dark thoughts entered her mind again - thoughts she only now realized had been there all along but she'd never before acknowledged. It would be so easy at this point. She was already out, away. She didn't have to go back. What good would she be to her mate and son now? What good had she ever been to them? They'd be better off without her. She could only hurt them, as she'd only ever hurt anyone she'd loved.

Finley didn't hear her niece as she called to her. She didn't even notice her until the girl had pressed against her. The beta recognized her presence with a start and looked down in surprise. She gained control of herself quickly enough, shaking her head lightly and forcing a smile. "Nothing, sorry," she reassured the girl, "The air is just stinging my eyes a little. Cool view though, right?"

One day, Wildfire might be emotionally intuitive enough to spot Finley's fib. Today, though, she was only six months old and so she accepted the Beta's answer at face value. "Oh," she said, a little relieved that her godmother wasn't being besieged by some invisible tragedy. "Yeah," she agreed, voice humble as her gaze turned outward again. She stared for another long beat.

But after a time, her eyes tracked back to Finley's face. "Should we go home now?" she asked in as solemn sort of voice. She didn't really want this adventure to end, yet surely they should head back before it got dark and the climb became downright treacherous, especially for her. Unaware of the loaded nature of her question, Wildfire climbed slowly to her feet but stilled, awaiting Finley's response.

Wildfire didn't seem to be completely fooled, and it was a bittersweet reminder to Fin that her god daughter was no longer a tiny pup. She was a year and a half six months old now, and it would be no time before she was a full two years. She could no longer rely on the underdevelopment of Wiffle's mental facilities to allow Fin the occasional slip of the tongue. Her niece noticed now, and wondered, and repeated. She was not so easily distracted, and even if she let it go in the moment, Wildfire would remember. Finley would simply need to learn to pretend better around her.

"Why don't we wander for a little longer, hm?" Fin suggested, "It looks like the ridge to the East descends, but not too abruptly so we'll have a chance to explore the mountain more and still end up at the bottom in time for dark." Wildfire's comment about going home was pushed out of her mind, for even then a small voice had begun to whisper in her mind that she would not be going home. Another, even smaller one, whispered that she would never be going home.

It was best to ignore the voices in her head, at least in public.

Another, perhaps more responsible adult might have agreed with the pup's assessment and ushered her home before nightfall. But this was Finley Blackthorn, so of course she proposed they continue exploring. Wildfire blinked, giving her aunt's face a quick, questioning look as if to ask, Really? She was serious! Her red cheeks turned up in a smile as her godmother proposed they descend on a pathway along an eastern ridge. Wildfire bobbed her head, enthused at the notion of extending their little expedition.

"Should I walk in front or behind?" she questioned out loud, talking to herself as much as to Finley. Whatever order they had used upon ascending did not matter, as descending was an entirely different beast. "Can I walk behind you, Aunt Flea? And maybe hold onto your tail?" She knew herself. Wildfire was bound to trip and fall—maybe even to her death—unless she had someone steady like Finley to hold onto.

Finley was pleased that she had succeeded in distracting the girl from her little breakdown. Wildfire was quite obviously excited about the prospect of continuing their trip, and the Blackthorn admittedly was as well. She pushed the dark thoughts from her mind, hoping to ease the terrible guilt that writhed in her stomach. It didn't quite work the way she wanted it to, but she did her best to ignore it.

The beta chuckled at Wildfire's request and gave a nod. "Sure, just don't tug on it," she said with a smirk, "And maybe don't fall into any holes with it still in your teeth. I rather like having a tail, and a god daughter for that matter."

HAPPY ONE YEAR THREADIVERSARY!!!

Wildfire grinned at Finley's joke and then, just two seconds later, her mouth split open into an enormous yawn. Not wanting her aunt to think she was too tired to keep up with their adventure, she clapped her mouth shut and shook her head, blinking bright-eyed at the older wolf. She then energetically took hold of her godmother's tail, though she made sure not to dig her teeth into Finley's fur and skin.

As they descended, so did the darkness. By the time they reached the foot of the summit, it was well past nightfall and Wildfire was practically asleep on her feet. She managed to maintain her grasp on Finley's tail the entire time, though as soon as they hit even ground, she spat it out. Her jaw was sort of sore and her tongue was dry. Poor Finley's tail looked mangled and covered in spit. The pup snorted, then drew in a deep breath of the night air. It was rather cool, a hint at the coming autumn.

As they set off toward the caldera, Wildfire idly wondered if her parents would be worried or upset by her long absence. But she was with Aunt Flea. She gazed up at the side of her aunt's face and smiled sleepily as they headed home. This had been one of the best days of her life and she would never forget it.