Swiftcurrent Creek who do you think you are? who do you think i am?

Their numbers dwindled dangerously low. Wylla had taken her daughter and left, much to the swarthy wolf’s disapproval. Jagwyr had gone, as well as Samothes and Samaantine. Thelxiope’s (the reclusive she-wolf) scent had faded from their lands. Clock. Koji. Rysk. Arrille.
 
He knew the fickle nature of wolves and their wandering paws. It was the ones who did not say goodbye that irked him the most, and should he see them again, the shadow runner had already determined to reveal his displeasure of their choice with tooth and claw.
 
It was a shame he had begun to trust so easily once more.
 
Even worse was the tension that clung to the creek, even with their thinning numbers. He stopped to mark a faded part of their border, worried of the consequences if they could no longer maintain it. Where would he move his family, then? Even more.. Would Durnehviir leave him? She had grown distant in comparison to their earlier days – notably when he had announced Aria’s return. At first, it had distressed him to feel the unspoken need to choose between both women – his lover or his best friend.
 
Now he was frustrated if only because his mate seemed to question his fidelity.
 
Autumn clung to the air, and as a cooler breeze brushed the fur of his dark coat, the Mayfair paused, his muzzle tilting upward as fiery eyes fell upon the svelte form of his past.