Dragoncrest Cliffs It's the last song I'll ever write for you

Wildfire woke suddenly to a sharp pain in her pelvis. Instinctively, she curled into a ball, nose to nethers, and tried to breathe through the sudden onset agony. The commander wasn't beside her—the pale sliver of sky she could see told her it was just about daybreak—and before the Feisripa could call for her, a second wave of pain throbbed through her, rendering her breathless even as her heart began to race.

Seconds later, she felt a wet warmth between her legs. When she crooked them apart, she saw that quite a lot of blood had gushed from her. Her heart plummeted, sure she was miscarrying. "Oh no," she whined, "no, no..." Her teeth clenched against a third onslaught. She felt something tear free from her body and she gave a sharp cry despite herself, which seemed to echo hollowly against the interior of the redwood tree.

Despite the gloom, she could see a small lump lying in the dirt. Biting back a distraught cry, Wildfire bent forward to inspect it. Her heart sat like a stone in the pit of her belly as she looked upon a wolf pup the size of a strawberry. Although it was very small—smaller than should ever be seen in the light of day—it was almost perfectly formed, with a tiny tail, four diminutive paws and... two heads.

Struck dumb, the Feisripa blinked down at the tiny pup(s?), limp and still in a pool of blood. She felt something curdle in her chest. Was this the end of her pregnancy? Had they only conceived mutants (for lack of a better term)? Was this probably for the best? With tears suddenly swimming in her eyes, blurring her vision, Wildfire slowly took the conjoined twins in her mouth. She thought to consume them for the nutrients but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she carried the tiny dead body outside, carrying it away into the woods for burial.

When she returned, the Feisripa stopped in the doorway and stared at the blood. Quickly, she began to dig at the earth, burying the signs of her miscarriage. She then slumped beside the door to assess herself. There was no more bleeding and no more pain, except for her broken heart.

Things had been quiet in Bobby's neck of the woods. It was both comforting and disheartening to see how well Drageda functioned without his constant presence, but sitting back and watching it happen was how he humbled himself. If anything ever happened, leaving him unable to serve his packmates the way that they served him, Bobby needed to know that it would be okay. That if he was to leave and never look back, everything would be okay. 

For at least a week, Bobby had kept to himself, only ever speaking when spoken to and trying to keep himself as hidden in the background as he could. Occasionally, he would seek out @Blixen or @Artaax and see what they'd gotten into, but the meetings had been short and to the point. Meddling too much in their lives would have messed up his experiment, after all. 

While Bobby might have liked for his period of seclusion to go on for a bit longer, it was time for him to welcome himself back into the world. Wildfire and Thur had only been distant thoughts for him, but they remained his top priority. The first thing that Bobby did upon waking was search out the former, finding it increasingly hard to settle until he knew that she could manage.

Up ahead, he could make out Wildfire's frantic steps back to the den. Bobby, not wanting to intrude while she was so clearly upset, waited until she settled in the doorway of the den to make his approach. He didn't say anything, but he stood a few feet away with his ears perked and tail wagging, waiting for her to accept or deny his visit.

Grief welled up and broke like a cold, dark wave over her head. Not only did she mourn the tiny pup(s?) she'd just buried but the fact that her pregnancy had been confirmed and evidently terminated in one fell swoop. A sob clawed its way up her throat and burst from her as she realized there would be no pups this spring after all. There might be no pups ever again, in fact, now that Wildfire had now twice produced deformed offspring.

She thought of Antler and decided she should name this unfortunate soul(s?) too. She supposed she should be grateful that the pup(s?) had died naturally so she hadn't been forced to cull it (them?) like she had with her firstborn. Another noise boiled up from her belly, something between a sigh and a sob. Since the conjoined twins had been dark in color, she decided to name them after their grandfather; she would henceforth think of them as Falcon and Hawk, one moniker for each perfect, tiny, still face.

Speaking of wolves who resembled Peregrine, Wildfire hiccuped when Bobby appeared. He was such a sight for sore eyes. She wanted to rush to him and bury her head in his neck. But she also didn't want to burden him with this tragedy. After a moment's deliberation, the Feisripa decided she would tell her mate and family about the miscarriage but keep the gory details to herself, at least for now.

"Bobby," she said in a soft, sniffling voice. "C'mere." She motioned him closer, knowing he would immediately notice her distress, if he hadn't already. "I have some bad news," Wildfire said quietly. "I just miscarried." It occurred to her that he may not know what that meant, so after swallowing against a catch in her throat, she explained, "I lost the pregnancy."

This new pregnancy had rarely crossed Bobby's mind, so had it not taken such a major emotional toll on his mother, he might have forgone any sympathy at all. It was Wildfire who he cared about, with or without the pups; as long as she was okay, Bobby didn't mind the rest. It's okay, he cooed, moving into position beside her and preening the fur on her scruff, It'll be okay.

They already had enough of a family, right? Losing a couple more, as heartless as it sounds, didn't make much of a difference in Bobby's mind. Maybe it was because everything seemed inconsequential, who knows? When? How? The only reason why he'd even asked was because he didn't want them to be stuck in an awkward silence during such hard times.

She leaned against him, allowing herself to be soothed by the gentle sweep of his tongue as well as his words. Even if their family couldn't grow any further, she still had Thuringwethil, Artaax, Blixen and Bobby here. It would have to be enough for her, even though Wildfire still grieved her losses.

"Just now," she murmured in response to Bobby's request for details. "I'm not really sure what happened," she fibbed. Most likely, her body had rejected the nonviable fetus(es) and nature had taken its course. Wildfire bit her lip and didn't mention Falcon and Hawk. She would keep that information staunchly to herself, maybe informing the commander eventually, if it seemed pertinent—like if the Heda wanted to try again.

She exhaled, trying not to think of that inevitable conversation just now. "Bobby," she said, voice still soft and sad, "tell me what you've been up to lately." Get my mind off things, please.

It was clear that Wildfire didn't want Bobby to press any further, so he didn't. Instead, he followed her invitation to change the subject with an awkwardly loud cough and a searching swivel of his ear. What had he been up to? You mean, aside from the early-mid-life-crisis and sudden onslaught of meaninglessness? Well, shoot, that just about rules everything out!

When all else failed, Bobby knew that he could resort to the ever safe topic of recent hunts and catches. I've been practicing my tracking, he said, looking for some sign of approval on his mother's face, and trying to build some merc skills. I've had some spars here and there.

He didn't have to look long or hard to find the approval he sought. Although Wildfire's expression was strained, she managed a smile for Bobby's accomplishments. Even if she and Thuringwethil didn't have any more children, they could be fiercely proud of the three they already had. With that thought, Wildfire felt hot tears wobbling in the corners of her eyes.

Stolidly ignoring them, she quietly said, "Oh yeah? Which interests you more: hunting or fighting?"