Dawnlark Plains the truth be told you need it more than you thought

he did not hate her. how could he? he looked at her now and saw her, finally, for what she was--a girl. a strong, smart, brave girl. . .but, at the crux of it all, a young woman, with a long life, god willing, ahead of her. mistakes would be made, missteps taken. that was how one learned; that was how he had learned. and he still did not have it all figured out, likely never would.

aditya must give her room to grow into the wolf she was meant to be. he had realized, perhaps as long ago as his conversation with her father, that she could not do so with him anchored to her side. he must let her go, and not cling to the hope that she would one day return.

"it will heal, with time," he said, not knowing quite how to digest her whispered words of gratitude. "no one but god knows how much time we really have--but we are young, and we do have time." adi swallowed, his throat rippling with the motion, the only movement on his otherwise stiff body. "whatever is meant to be for us will come true. just know, dawn. . ."

he broke off, all words lost entirely as a surge of something--he didn't know what--rose within him, choking him suddenly. he let out a half-panicked exhale, turning away. "let me know if you need anything else," he managed to spit out, though not at all what he had meant to say. blood pounding in his ears, he spun and took quick steps toward the expanse of the plains, teeth chattering with the effort to contain himself.

aditya broke down just out of sight of her den, head bowed as if in prayer, the tears tracking through the plush fur lining his cheeks. in his head rattled the unspoken sentiment he had failed to offer her:

i don't know how to stop, either.