We all make mistakes

She had waited for as long as she could for him. But sleep inevitably took her into its thrall before he arrived from his late patrol. Suddenly her hackles started to rise and a smell that alarmed her broke through her dreams and made her open her eyes into the darkened den. She watched Teegra, from the pile of furs, enter the den and slip by her and hear Bas whispering to the slave.

Ignita smelled blood. Teegra seemed fine. She heard Bas's tone about it not stitching themselves. She quietly and silently extricated herself from the pile of puppies and lingered in the darkness, watching as Teegra stitched up some of Bas's wounds.

That particular task had been part of Iggy's first trials with him. She had been the only one to stitch him up... up until now. Conveniently forgetting that perhaps he had received a few stitches before he met her and of course, Oleander's had a few stitches on him here and there. She could only remember that she had been the only one he had allowed to stitch him up, to care for him, she had been the only one he had been the most vulnerable with.

She watched as the girl diligently set about her work, and just as she finished and Bas inquired of the slave, the Consort walked out of the shadows. She softly padded toward Bas and tenderly looked at the slave's work. The stitches were tight and raised. Her golden eyes peered carefully into his. Accusing? Concern? Judgement? It was difficult even for her to decide.

"What happened?" She asked quietly, wondering why he hadn't woke her... Why the slave was here in these dark hours at night...