Since Constantine returned with a she-wolf of his past, Durnehviir had been plagued with the heaviest of insecurities. Aria's presence within Swiftcurrent Creek had forced tension and frustration upon the Alpha pair and, with one as stubborn as the other, neither seemed intent on formally addressing the issue. Instead, they avoided one another to the best of their ability. It wasn't an ideal solution considering the leadership and - more importantly - offspring they shared, the latter of whom had surely noticed the discomfort of their parents.
She left her cubs in the company of their sire that evening, striking out alone in search of fresh prey. Happening across fresh herbivore scat and tracks, the russet Frostfur lowered her crown and quickened her pace.
The trail seemed to lead her beyond her home, but she was not nervous of venturing into neutral territory. What did rouse her anxiety was the sight of an ivory wolfess who prowled the land's outskirts.
Her task immediately forgotten, the dragoness halted to observe Aria's movement. Ginger ears pricked forward, curious, before one folded back against her crown. Durnehviir's stare sharpened somewhat, though she dared not utter a word. Even birdsong from the branches above seemed to cease, silenced with the frostiness of the Alphess' gaze.
Durnehviir's feelings toward Aria had never been as certain as they were now. From her initial jealousy in the early stages of courting with Constantine, the dragoness had felt some quiet guilt for her immediate dislike of the January dove. For a time she might have even been concerned following her disappearance from Ravensblood, but the worry had been fleeting. Aria had chosen to leave, after all, and it was Durnehviir who remained.
With the mystery surrounding her return and avoidence, the russet Frostfur felt as though she had something to hide - and her natural suspicion was roused once more. She'd come just in time to settle for the Winter, after all, and Durnehviir had scented her on the hide of her mate upon his return on many an evening.
She kept her own distance, observing from afar, and fearing the day she'd have solid evidence of Constantine's betrayal.
Aria turned to her and, with a twitch of her lip as she fought the urge to pull them back in a flash of fangs, Durnehviir rose her proud muzzle and straightened her posture. In large part, she hoped that the pallid she-wolf would see fit to challenge her in this private moment, so she could channel her frustrated aggression appropriately. Instead, Aria dipped her own head and her ears splayed backward - a submission.
Through flared nostrils, she exhaled a breath. How unfortunate.
"And to you," was her cool, collected response despite the accusations she wished to spit.