Wolf RPG

It took Fennec a few days to recognize the feeling that had settled into her, and to put a paw on its familiarity.  The instant she did, she knew there was no point in her trying to fix this.  When @Figment left, she would write him off completely, letting their friendship die the slow death it was meant to.  Some wolves just weren’t meant to be compatible, and fighting that would only make everything more painful.

The insistence on pretending nothing was wrong.  The clear statement of his own boundaries and wants without even being willing to compromise on the things she needed.  Refusing to trust her, and instead leaving her with everything unresolved, all because it was easier for him.  She was selfish, unreasonable, wrong for daring to ask why they couldn’t be around her. As if there’s no good reason for me to want answers, with everything that’s happened. It was all the same.

How did she not realize how similar Fig and Bronco really were?

Fennec felt for the wall of the den she was carving out to be larger, then began to dig, grateful for the burn of her muscles and the cool damp of the earth beneath her paws.  It was nice to have this to wear herself out with, though once she finished it, she might need to find a sparring partner instead.  It had been a while.

Fuck.  She could be grateful for one thing; the realization made her almost glad he wasn’t sticking around.  Now that the comparisons were drawn, she wouldn’t be able to unsee them, and they’d make themselves known every time.  Maybe they both really would be happier with him gone.

She dug a deep welt, flinging the earth out towards the entrance somewhere behind her.