The real problem was that they were under the blazing noon sun, both parched and tired of that heat. Even though the weather should have become more gloomy those days, that very one day, the one the she wolf decided to retake her duty in the tribe, the sun mock them by showing the bright face to them.
It should be laughing with the irony of the occasion. In her mind - and Bluma's too, as it looked -, the grayish woman cursed the daily star while her omnipresent company stomped her, in rebellion to the heat. With a quick movement, she surrounded her abdomen in pain, and wondered about that. It was okay; they had covered most of the boarders, even though she didn't have to do that. It was just fine to quit the scort.
She turned the horse towards the woods' shadows, and it seemed Paradise. Dismouting slowly, she lyed on the ground, the back suportted by a tree, the mare sitting besides her without care, totally worn out. The woman streched a hand and petted the horse's ear and chocolate brown mane. Tired, she enjoyed the coolness of the shadows, the cold breeze that hadn't warmed up yet blwing through her bangs. Her - and her unborn child - loved that feeling, and she slowly dripped into sleep. Bluma's sniff was the last thing she remenbered before falling.