[Re]covery (open!)

[Sivoncé™]

Fireflight felt like death.
Dying twice in such a short period of time was a hard thing to shake off your shoulders. It felt like the battle was only yesterday. No, worse than that, it felt like the battle was still burning all around. Everywhere she looked, she still saw the fires burning. Inside her, the fire, she knew, would be eternal.
Two of her children were missing. Blood Mist was to blame. Babylonia was to blame. And most of all, Assyria was to blame. The world was a dark shadow, pressuring her closer and closer to madness. The alpha knew it was only a matter of time before she snapped.
She'd heard all of the old fables, of course, about the bravery of mighty alphas in such times as these. Most of the time, the stories failed to touch on what the struggle must've felt like to them, and only painted galliant pictures of fearless warriors facing down evil and emerging victorious. But every now and then, Fireflight caught whispers amongst the elders about how it really happened -- how Yozora died fearfully facing Death, how Sheera went down similarly, the scandal of Destiny's children and their multiple fathers, or Siveria's insanity before she faced Verlust. There's nothing glorious about war, nothing. Nothing to relish in. Nothing at all. The image of the wolf who wore the skull flitted through her mind.
I will die during this war, Fireflight thought. It didn't make her sad, only resigned and weary.
There would be peace no longer. Her heart burned.
I'll go to hell as long as I can take them all with me to torture for eternity.
She tipped her head back and howled for her pack to gather.
"EVERYONE, GATHER FOR A PACK MEETING!"
Her children would be resuced. She would stop at nothing.

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

Darkness. Sadness. Pain. Rage.
They were all emotions that burned in the chest of the beta. All of these feelings were threatening to harm her judgement, to take away her good sense. She felt as if she would explode, or go insane! But she couldn't. She was a leader. She was Fireflight's right hand wolf, other than her mate of course, but he wasn't doing crap right now. Not that she knew of, so it was BurnNote's job to step up, and help out with the pack. It was time she stopped putting herself first.
Time to kick ass.
The fiery fae broke from the shadows. She was still covered in her own dried blood, and the dried blood of her opponents. She had been laying at the bottom of a ditch a few moments earlier, but she was summoned on her alpha's call. As she approached, she kept her crown held high, and blocked out all her pain. Physical, mental, emotional. It was all just pain. It was just a game. And she would win.

As she came forward she stopped beside Fireflight, and glanced across the gathering pack. She didn't speak for she knew it was not yet time for her to speak. She would be here for Fireflight though. The female had believed in her when no one else would.

[Sivoncé™]

Fireflight's ears twitched in recognition as her beta approached to stand beside her. If Fireflight had been capable of feeling thankful for anything, she would've felt thankful for Burn. BurnNote was the first solid beta she had had as leader -- the two others before her were missing and assumed dead. Neither had lasted long. They had been through hell in that battle and BurnNote was still there. But Fireflight didn't blink at her in appreciation. No, she was not capable of such things right now.
Right now, she wasn't an alpha -- no, not really. She was a tormented mother with a rage that would not be quenched until the blood of those who stole her children ran down her throat.
She hungered. Her copper eyes danced with the flames of Hellfire.

Carolina gathered with her packmates, eyes tearing as she looked up at Fireflight and BurnNote. The she-wolf was still reeling from the betrayal of her son, Etheris, and the death of Milly. They had tried for revenge, but failed miserably. What path was left to them, now? How can we fight an enemy that cannot die?

[.Rabid Lycan.]

(( Fireflight… ~ ~ War—what is it good for? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, say it again ~ ~ ))

The world seemed muted by the collective silence of mourning. The later hours of the day shed little comfort on those who had returned from battle, and even though the eve of war had since passed, most of the soldiers could not shake the scenes of gore that burned on the back of their eyelids.
Rapier himself was one of them. He sat under the cover of the Healer’s den, a fresh set of cobwebs and herbs binding the savage wound to his shoulder. There was hardly any room amongst the healing and dying bodies, so he had been staying in the regular dens with many of the others, but he was compelled to visit the contorted figures. One of the wolves he had helped drag back to camp, Ruka, lay with his legs crushed. Another nearby figure had grotesque scarring to his visage. All the while, Rapier stared, immobile and not unlike a sentinel.
Then, pack meeting. The very sound jolted Rapier out of another disturbing reverie. Sensation rushed back into his limbs, and the warrior padded into the clearing, and sat a respectful distance from his Alphess. …what now? It was the only question that his mind could piece together, and it was a miserable one, at that.

Little did Burn Note (or Fireflight… or anybody else, really) know, Euphrates was, in fact, “doing crap”. It was just very counterproductive crap.
And Fireflight would soon kill him for it.
In any case, he was absent for the meeting.

[Sivoncé™]

He didn't come. He wasn't there. He wasn't going to come.
Fireflight had to go on without him.
She felt a rising lump in her throat and began to sweat, suddenly nervous in a way she had never felt before. Euphrates was gone -- had he gone without her to search for their children, or was he in trouble to? And what should the pack due about it? Three of their members were missing. and they couldn't defeat the enemy that had them....
Her voice was weak and hoarse as she began. "During the fighting, Blood Mist took advantage of the distraction to sneak into camp and take two of our pups....two of my daughters....Isis and Cleopatra. For that matter, I don't think anyone has seen Euphrates since before the fighting began, either. The message Blood Mist is sending is clear: they are hitting me personally in an attempt to weaken Destinian leadership as a whole. But I'll tell you something about that..." She paused, gathering her strength, and placing the passion back in her words, "they won't weaken us, they'll just piss us the hell off!"she leaped down from her rock perch and began pacing methodically around her warriors. It was time for them to be fired up again. The battle had been a great loss, but she needed them to burn with anger because of it -- anger enough to do something about it.
"Enough is enough. We know from the past that the packs have to work together to get rid of Blood Mist, so that's what we'll have to do. I propose a Moonless Meeting between all four packs, where we dscuss recent happening's and can come up with a new course of action. Without the official meeting, I doubt the Yozorans will have to hear us out about it, but if tradition induces them to come, then they will at least have to talk to us and hear what we have to say. Perhaps a head on attack won't work, but we're not finished yet -- they can think twice about us just giving up!"

[Acacia]

Whisper limped into the Destinians camp her head down in same. She had disappeared in her packs time of need and had gotten herself hurt in the process. She listened as her alpha spoke about her pups. She would help find them. She had made up her mind and would never run away again.

[Destiny]

'Exiled!' The word was like a cancer, echoing in that thick skull day in and day out. It had for years now, ever since the day when she was but a young'un - not even a neophyte. A permanent scar on her mind like the brand slashed across her face. No matter now though, it had been so long that the wolf wondered whether or not anyone would even know her by sight. Akaira had changed extensively since that fateful day, filling in like the bitch who'd permitted her existence, and the peculiar manner of her coat was certainly eye-catching - white underneath, with a black coat and silver ticking.

Upon her back lay a strikingly silver heap, looking to be a bit older than her carrier and one hundred percent 'not in the world', which probably had something to do with the extreme waves of heat radiating from her lithe figure. To say she 'had a fever' would have been a grave understatement. Drool plopped onto the underbrush every so often from lolling jaws, and only for the slight rise and fall of her chest - though it was clearly not without effort - the wolf could have been dead.

Very close on the left of these two a slightly smaller, frail looking brute was being supported by his son, Silas, who had grown just begin enough for the task in recent months. Though there was a gauntness about his figure that suggested illness it had more to due with lack of nourishment than anything. Unlike his nearly dead elder, Sothis had a much different problem that anyone with common sense could figure out. Perhaps it had something to do with the mess of his muzzle, the shreds that were his ears, and the glaze across his eyes which could mean only one thing.

It was a long, arduous procession that the small group had begun nearly a week previous. Having started out from the Mountains of Endless Winter, they'd traversed their way towards the Twilight Lake, skirting the pack territories and cutting straight through the Destinian heart. They all knew the path like it was ingrained upon their very souls, anyway. Having taken very, very long pause on the outskirts of the pack's 'home base', the large scarred wolf, clearly the small group's leader, carefully, slowly, picked her way down towards the camp's entrance as she remembered it. This might be the end of me.. But Silas couldn't have carried his father and this foolish old she-wolf back himself, and blood is blood..

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

BurnNote arched an eyebrow as she scanned the crowd for Fireflight's lover. Well, well. Where is the son of a bitch? She thought, the hair on the back of her neck bristling at the thought. She watched as Fireflight leaped from the rock with passion, and began to circle their faithful warrior. She fidgeted slightly, her eyes darting between Fireflight and the crowd of lupine. What do I do! Do I just sit here and look pretty! Or do I back her up? Gawsh, she never told me what to do in these sort of situations. Biting her lower lip she leaped with an almighty leap from the rock as well, and landed on the ground behind Fireflight. She said nothing as her alpha began to talk about the Moonless meeting. Her head cocked slightly to the side. A moonless meeting? Well then...perhaps I should open my trap.

BurnNote stepped forward, and cleared her throat. My dear members, might I be so bold to add that the Moonless Meeting is a strong advantage point for us? The Blood Mist have made it very clear already that we are not their only target. Their only mission in this world is to destroy. To hurt. And to spill blood. She glanced about the members, and then looked to Fireflight. I hope I'm not stepping out of bounds. She thought, but quickly shook the uncertainty away. The packs are not yet hopeless, my friends. The Blood Mist look unbeatable on the outside, but their insides are weak. What we don't see is the fact that their just a bunch of blood thirsty wolves running around with their heads cut off. She said, watching the wolves for a few moments, before pausing for a few moments. She had taken a few measured steps forward, her bright blue eyes flashing in what little light there was.

Giving up isn't an option. And I'm behind Fireflight the whole time. BurnNote's ears suddenly snapped forward as she sensed someone, or something slowly edge toward the entrance of the camp. They smelt of destinian scent, but it was old. The hair on the back of her neck bristled, but she didn't say anything. She was sure Fireflight knew they were there as well.

[Sivoncé™]

Carolina turned, her attention swayed by the sounds of pawsteps at the edge of the camp. Fear fluttered in her chest as she thought for a hysterical moment that the Blood Mists had come to fulfill their promise to slay them all -- they had not yet fully recovered, and if the whole Blood Mist forced stormed down upon them now, there would be no hope for getting help from the other packs. They would be dead within the hour.
But no, it wasn't death pounding at their doorstep.
It was love.
"Sothis?"
It was half-wail half-gasp as Carolina jolted to her paws and stared with wide-eyes at the familiar figure approaching them. The femme swayed on her paws; she appeared to be on the brink of fainting from joy.

As her beta spoke, Fireflight felt pride swell in her chest. A large grin flowered on her face as she looked up to see the faces of long-lost loved ones returning to their ranks. The alphess dipped her head in approval at the familiar figures. "Welcome back, brethren," she rumbled, her voice echoing of relief and happiness. Just when everything had seemed dark and hopeless, hope trodded right into the heart of Destinian terra. BurnNote was right -- this wasn't over yet. There was no way Blood Mist could be as united and purposeful as the Destinians. This much heart, passion, and dedication could only lead to triumph.
"We shall have the Moonless Meeting, and we shall have it soon! In the meantime, I advise you all to rest, and when you feel you are strong enough, train with each other as much as possible. We may have lost the battle, but we will win the war!"

[.Rabid Lycan.]

War drums performed all manner of acrobatics somewhere deep within his chest, each step only seeming to augment the vitality of their stunts. Each step, each breath of air—each of them bringing the refugee family ever closer to some uncertain fate. Euphrates tightened his grasp around Uruk, glancing anxiously back at his mother, an emotion less than fear but more than concern tainting his gaze. They were almost to camp—how would the pack react? Babylonia had been their enemy for ages; no amount vouching would wash that stain away. Not to mention, with his own track record for loyalty, his word was worth little. They were prisoners, but prisoners did not always get fair treatment. They wouldn’t kill them, would they? No… of course not.
They were nearly at the entrance when something vaguely familiar seized the wind and channeled into his nostrils. …Destiny…?
Not quite, but close enough. So close.

But there was one other who’s entire being jolted—electrified—at the arriving scent. Memories like fresh petals danced around his vision, filling the air with that sweet, nostalgic fragrance that so tempts the aged and wounded alike. All at once, he registered that his limbs were tense with the weight of his standing body, and a series of crooked maneuvers led him straight to the source of the mystical aroma.
His eyes locked, trained on a specter eerily similar to his own form. His throat strained to acknowledge his wishes, and his eyes could not waver from the sudden apparition that was sitting on their doorstep. Voice strangled with disbelief, Rapier finally managed a hoarse, “Sis? Is it… really you?”

Euphrates paused, partially delaying, partially awaiting the best opportunity to enter the camp. Angling his ears, he caught the final snippet of Fireflight and Burn Note’s motivational speeches, and spread his toes as nerves surged up his spine. What are you, afraid? You’re a Blood Mist and a Destinian. Show some confidence.
Swallowing whatever hesitance remained in his limbs, Euphrates nodded to Babylonia to enter ahead of him, and took his first steps into the camp. The Blood Mist Queen was now his prisoner—their prisoner.
“Sorry I’m late. Had to run a few errands.”

[Destiny]

It was an entirely riveting aroma, that would have sent every muscle in that skeletal body of his into shocked spasms had his system the energy to support it. Given that it did not, the ragged, gaunt, filthy wolf simply stood, trembling, just barely supported by his brother [ Made a mistake earlier; Silas is younger, but actually a sibling of Sothis. ] - and then there was no support at all. It wasn't anyone's fault, really, the younger wolf had just been taken aback by the familiar smells.. Being home and everything.

Abandoned, he immediately crumpled into a heap on the ground, quivering from the chill in the air; which wasn't actually there, but when you're ill, your mind does strange things to you. Very slightly, the rags that he now called ears twitched, and he looked around for the wolf who had said his name. It was a heart-wrenching action, watching his head - still covered in dried blood, and looking to be only partially healed in several places - turn this way in that, looking for the mate he couldn't see. Not that he could see anything. Not anymore. Highly upset, cold, hungry, ill, tired, and wanting to just curl up against the love his beaten down senses could not locate sent the poor brute into a pup-like state. Whimpering, ragged tail swept itself over the body which curled in on itself, shivering.

All the while, Silas had stood nearby, just as blind as his brother - but from birth, and thus as capable as any other wolf thanks to super-sensitive hearing, smell, and so on. Despite this, he was so completely enraptured with being home that he did not at all notice the state which Sothis had reverted to, and proceeded to give a respectful dip of the head in the direction from which Fireflight's voice had come.

Unlike the two she had been escorting, Akaira's reaction had been much different. Immediately, she had dipped her head, let her tail drop to half-mast; looking threatening would have been no bonus, after all, should they still all hate her to the very core. But.. Apparently, they did not! How surprising - and welcome.

With a dip of the head, accompanied by a particular expression, all respects and thanks were paid. They had not come simply for the sake of returning home - word traveled fast, and loners were gossips more often than not. Occupied by the heat-wave that weighed next to nothing, she crouched down, and, as gently as possible, took the silver wolf by her scruff, pulling the motionless lump onto the ground. Svel made a sound that might have been a cough - nothing more. "Svel is on the tip of Twilight's paw; has been for a moon now. If anyone is a Healer, now would be the time to shine.." Her voice, which was not so much commanding as echoing, in that almost authoritarian, but still questioning manner her mother had used so often - own to business, but it was clear there was a kindness underneath - had begun to trail off. Not for lack of things to say, but from distraction. She did not immediately know why. But then it was there.

"......" It was just as well he had a target painted right on his forehead, because she would have hit the bulls-eye. That scent went beyond acquaintance, friend, pack-mate, lover.. It was so much more. Blood. Kin/ ".....Ah..." If Akaira could have seen her own expression, she would not have laughed, but rather pondered why the immediate reaction had not been to tackle her brother like they were still pups. As things were, she simply wagged her tail. Not a lot, but just enough to be noticed. The reply to his question, which was pointless, they both knew who the other was, was a small 'whuff' like sound, and something that might have been a half-grin. If wolves could make such expressions. "Been awhi-" Abruptly, she turned on her heels and moved to stand protectively over Svel, letting her shoulders gather-up in that 'I dare you to come near me' manner. Blood Mist. But wait... Wasn't that?...

[Sivoncé™]

Fireflight's eyes rushed over the coven of new arrivals, her expression running from bright welcome to rising worry and sudden scrutiny. She knew the wolves -- or at least, she thought she did. She had been a very young warrior at the time of the new territories, but she remembered some of the elder members of the Destinians. Sothis was injured beyond belief, Silas was overjoyed, and Svel....oh, Golden Wolf, Svel...
This was the wolf she had raced with in her earliest days as a warrior, the wolf she had admired above all others, save for Destiny herself. Back when Fireflight had been just another wolf, before her life was even defined by love for Euphrates, before she was beta, or alpha, or had anything to do except relish in the awesome power of a runner's stride, Svel had been her hero.
Luckily for Akaira, no one seemed to recognize Destiny's assasin. Either that, or the events that unfolded immediately after her arrival negated any sense of shock at her being there at all.
"Whisper," she barked sharply to the young healer, "See to Svel at once -- save her if you can! And the others---"
Dear Wolven....
Shaking with anger and disbelief, Fireflight took a trembling step foward.
"Euphrates.......what did you do?"

At the sight of his pain, Carolina crumbled and ran to his side. She crouched down beside her Sothis, licking at his tattered frame. "It's all right, love, I'm here," she murmured softly. Her eyes closed as she felt a rush of bliss that threatened to overwhelm her. There was a sharp stab of grief intermingled in her joy, but with Sothis there, she was able to remain whole. With her eyes shut tight, she did not yet lay eyes upon the second set of arrivals.

Instinctively, Babylonia's tail swept protectively over the eyes of her younglings, shielding them from the hateful stares that swirled around them like a hurricane. Babylonia snorted openly at Fireflight's accusatory tone. Yep, I'm the devil, bitch. Go ahead and hate me. She tried to keep the wrinkles of disdain from her features, but with limited success. Ruffians, in their truest form. Even as she loathed what Blood Mist had become, she loathed the Destinians as well. The term "birth pack" meant very little to the former Blood Mist monarch, though her time had come to pass. Head held high, her wintry blue eyes met the dagger stares with a double-edged sword of her own.
"What? I don't get a 'Welcome Home!' too? I was born here, you know."

[.Rabid Lycan.]

“I, uh…”
There weren’t exactly words for moments like this. Even though she restrained herself from exuberant displays of excitement, Akaira probably said it best with her motion of silence, followed by an all-too-true utterance. How long had it been? For a moment, Rapier wondered if Akaira had anything at all to restrain, with the distance of time between them so long and far lost. His tail wagged in response, though a ridiculous grin plastered itself on his suddenly cheerful maw—until, that is, he noted the source of his sister’s sudden shift in mood.
His jaw nearly plummeted from its hinges.
…the… hell…?

Euphrates slowly lowered his sibling to the floor, nudging the suddenly-not-so-tough male toward his mother’s protective stance. Then, with colossal effort, he managed to shift his gaze to meet Fireflight’s. Oh, and how he regretted stealing that glance. As far as confidence went, the unyielding glares of practically every wolf he’d ever seen on a daily basis didn’t help much either.
His mother’s attitude finally moistened his lips enough to speak—thank you for that. Moving to stand in front of Babylonia—Verlust’s right-hand wolf, the traitorous Destinian, the wolf who was responsible with slaughtering countless pack wolves and injuring still countless others—he began to speak. “I’ve taken Babylonia of Blood Mist as a prisoner of the Destinian pack—her and her young pups. As is, she is of little threat to the pack, and currently none of Blood Mist knows of her exact whereabouts.” Though I know I certain someone who might offer a mighty fine guess… aside from Sumer, that is. “She herself has agreed to the terms of incarceration without a fight, and any insubordination from her end will not be tolerated.” He had planned this speech rather carefully, but his words were failing him under the circumstances, and at this point he could summon nothing else to say.
His gaze was caught between Burn Note and Fireflight as he retreated a step and bowed his head, as if offering their new captives to their masters.
If people start fighting… urgh, please don’t start fighting…

[Destiny]

Never one without a two, never two without a three..
It was a pathetic sound, like a lost, brutally tortured neophyte thrown out in the cold of Winter, left to die or be savaged further by starved predators, or its own kind. A sort of whine that managed to be both loud and low, high-pitched and moaning; the sound of a sick, broken wolf. But then there was warmth - something his brain scarcely recalled and the peculiar sensation of.. Of grooming? Sothis' head rose up a tad, reaching out in the direction of that melodious voice as the cogs in his head started to turn, recollecting on days long since gone-by, and wishing that silky, beautiful sound could be accompanied by the picture he scarcely remembered. The face whose details were half a question. "Car'...?" Croaking out the word he fell into a sputter of coughs, cleared his throat, tried again. "Oh, Golden Wolf... I missed you.." A hoarse whisper, he made an attempt to gently nuzzle the general area where he thought she might be situated.

In the mean time, Silas was completely oblivious to all of this, and had disappeared in the general direction of the Healer's den - his old den, actually. Perhaps to find something to treat his brother and Svel, perhaps to reminisce. Regardless, he wasn't 'on the scene' anymore.

Returning to the world of everyone who is at least somewhat sane, Akaira remained poised over the more-or-less motionless lump of silver-grey fur that was Svel, in a position that generally said 'Come any closer and I'll rip your jaw clear off your skull and ask questions later'. The general consensus appeared to be 'Fuck this bitch', but to be perfectly honest, Akaira wasn't really sure how much she should actually care about Euphrates' old hag. Mostly because, though loners carry gossip, she hadn't heard much about Babylonia specifically in a very long time, and was generally ignorant to anything she might've taken part in over semi-recent moons. Never-the-less, she was just as ready to attack as anyone else. If only out of spite.

[Sivoncé™]

The world was spinning around her. A moment ago, she'd had a plan. A moment ago, she would've been on her way to clearing the fog and slicing through the confusion, but now, everything was different. Now, everything had clouded over with nonsense. All was shades of gray, and nothing black or white could be found. Fireflight's mind reeled, grasping feebly for an ounce of sense but only finding puzzle pieces that didn't want to fit together.
She met Euphrates' gaze with what she knew would be a look of hurt and betrayal. She tried to supress it -- to look strong for her pack and formidable to her enemy, but she could not. No matter what words came from his mouth, she was hurt. Where was he when his sister had killed her, twice, on the battlefield? Where was he when their daughters went missing, and why did she have this vile feeling in her gut? She wanted to break down and cry and beg for the answers, but those feelings would have to wait for later. She had to try to be stronger than her own spirit.
As the seconds ticked by, Fireflights mind shaped suddenly into new, rather appealing conclusions. Whatever trap Babylonia was laying for them by handing herself over, there had to be some sort of benefit from having her here. Just how broken had Blood Mist become on the inside? In a swift motion, Fireflight moved to whisper in BurnNote's ear in a low tone only meant for her beta.
"I need you to find that wolf who set you free and get him to tell us absolutely everything he knows about Blood Mist's leadership. This could be a ploy to get us feeling powerful, or a trap of some sort, but most of all it is an opportunity. We need to find out if someone has replaced Babylonia."
With a start, Fireflight realized how likely this possibility was.
Oh no....Assyria....it has to be her....
Uneasiness setteled in her golden gaze as she moved to approach her new captive. Her eyes flickered from Babylonia to the young pups.
I wonder, do they call Blood Mist family, or just Babylonia?
Fireflight knew it didn't matter. If ever the opportunity came, she would trade the lot of them to get her two daughters back home safe.
"Babylonia," she spoke in a controlled, low voice, "you are hereby a captive of the Destinian Pack. Should you try and escape or act without specific permission from myself -- no others -- you will be punished severely," she growled. Death would be freedom, Fireflight knew, and it wasn't an option for this particular captive. She was far, far too valuable. "Your children will be treated kindly -- we are not barbarians. When they come of neophyte age, they may petition the pack for the right to join us. If they choose not to, we may consider the option of granting their freedom. You are your children will remain in that den, there, until we summon you." Fireflight dimissed the captives with a flick or her tail towards a small cave near the herb healer's den. She nodded to a nearby warrior, appointing him as guard (anyone wanna jump in?).
She turned to Euphrates.
"Explain."

That's right. Soak it all in, bitch. You could at least gloat a little instead of looking like a wounded puppydog. Babylonia was growing rather bored with this whole ordeal. She listened to Fireflight's authoritative banter with a blank expression. She didn't specifically avoid looking anyone in the eye, but she didn't stare anyone down, either. Instead, the fallen Blood Mist idol ushered her pups closer to her with a swish of her tail. She nuzzled each of them affectionately.
"Come, darlings, it's time for a rest."
Without another word, she rose and padded towards her prison. She didn't want to think right now -- didn't want to think about what Fireflight had said about her pups petitioning to join the Destinians. She'd seen a look in that femme's eyes and she knew what it meant. Fireflight didn't give a damn about Babylonia's pups, she only cared about her own.
When she was away from the pack, her expression fell to the floor.
It wasn't good for me in Blood Mist, but my pups were far safer there than they are here. I should've never taken them from home....but what choice did I have?

"It's me, Sothis, it's me!" Carolina's voice was a breathy whisper overtaken with joy. He was here, he was really here, and he was home. And she was crying. He didn't know what had happened to their children. He didn't know Tatiana died fighting Blood Mist, or that the others had been missing, or that Etheris had betrayed them all to Blood Mist and was an enemy to them now.
She couldn't look at Babylonia, couldn't make herself care right now. Her whole world hung on Sothis' shoulders.
"Please don't ever leave me again!"

Ishtar wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes at all the tall, strange-smelling wolves. They were a lot like Euphrates -- his family, probably. But not quite. Euphrates looked like Mother and the others, but other than that he seemed more like this crowd of strange, angry-looking creatures. She peered up at her so-called 'brother' with a growing curiosity. Maybe he is a little like us. Euphrates wasn't glaring or looking at them like they were vermin. Ishtar's eyes moved to the flame-colored she-wolf who approached them. She spoke a lot of words she didn't understand, but she knew enough to feel rage boiling in her gut. She didn't like this female, not one bit. Nobody's gonna hurt my momma! She followed Babylonia, but stuck her tongue out defiantly at the Destinians as she went.
Go ahead and glare, I hate you too!