Moonspear raised high, brought low

This encounter had troubled her enough. On an already thinned patience, this was treacherous ground underfoot. With ups and down, she was plenty justified in feeling quite done here.

But here he was poised and ready to inspire conflict in her heart. He'd made her feel more shut down than before, then gone on to make her wary about his own reception of her pregnancy, then turned around to speak of.. love, and with his dick out no less. Amekaze could generally pride herself on a good grasp on most things, or at least some semblance of an understanding because she could resonate with the nature of the beast, but this was apparently not one of those times.

His words made her pause her steps. It felt like hesitation. Her chest burned and she made a little noise -- one between a whine and a possessive growl. She loved that speckled yearling far too much for even her own good, so she hated feeling her mouth be too dry to even make words. She'd never understand why, completely. He was fierce, he reminded her of the reality and the ruthless beauty of life when she threatened to drift away into the ether.

And he was hers even after all things, the first to be bold enough to stand alongside her and perhaps the most consequential bond she'd ever built. Nothing that had gone on with Lazarus alone would change it for her, but she did not know if he still felt the same towards her because of him, and she would not waste her energy when the exchange was not equal, not when she had better uses for it now.

She was hurt, too. It was not only him. Amekaze moved on then slipped away in silence, leaving a fading trail of wet pawprints.