The minute the reminiscent fragrance of his look-alike waffed into his nostrils he shook his head and groaned. He had heard nothing about the bear attack or about Lasher's rescue act. He had been to busy mapping the surrounding lands to even catch up with the latest gossip at the Plateu. The underlying truth to why he was avoiding the Plateu in the first place was because, despite the long month that had gone by, the place still reeked of her.

Her image was still engraved in the trees and the clouds, but especially in the stars that at night raced past his head, crying out in pain as they too missed her face.
The memories that they had built together still stood fresh in his mind, even if with her departure she had tore them apart.

Unconciously his legs began to reel him in, taking him closer to the medic's den where she laid, bruised up and battered up. After arriving, he lingered around the far side of the clearing with his ears pinned to his skull. He could feel his pulse begin to race as he began to connect the dots; realizing that her intoxicating fragrance was not product of his imagination and that what was even worse neither was the metallic scent of blood laced with it.

He allowed a worried grumble to bubble from his throat, as if to summon any entity present to come and wake him from the frightening nightmare he was wrapped in.

He stared coldly at the entrance of the den, not yet daring to peer in -- not because of the irration phobia that lied at the back of his mind but because he wished it wasn't her. He wished it was not his Fin the one coiled up in the medic's den with god knows what injuries covering her skin and tainting her scent with the tangy odour of blood. He wished it was all a cruel joke his mind tried to pull on him just to make him suffer for not speaking when he had the chance.

His jagged breath and obnoxiously loud heartbeat would've been enough to wake his sleeping beauty from her slumber, but he hadn't realized that yet. His eyes were clouded with the hazy images of her face and his mind too caught up on the mistake that had brought them apart to notice her chocolate eyes had fluttered open and were now fixed on him.

He paced madly around the entrance, wanting to find the courage to look in but scared to death to see her there. If she was here and not in the Caldera it must've been because of something big; after she had walked away he had never expected her to return. Suddenly, through frantic heaves and low whines, his face turned to the side casuing his olive orbs to clash with her own in a synchronized moment of pure magic.

The Ollivander blinked slowly, tracing every curvature of her face with his eyes, covering every inch with greedy admiration for the beauty he had been deprived of during the last month. Am I going insane? he breathed, barely mouthing the faint words that were not intended for her ears.

I knew it was you he barked hoarsely, this time speaking loud enough for her to grasp every raspy syllable that dripped from his mouth.

He was momentarily stuck on the spot, unable to move under her warm chocolate gaze. He reacted, however, when the injured female tried to stand up, allowing a small moan to escape from her lips as she did so ; he had moved to help her, give her a shoulder to lean againts but he stopped himself midway fearing that his touch would not yet be welcomed.

He had no idea where they stood -- the truth was he had never known. Not until she had walked away from him had he realized that she was more than just his stunt that often doubled as his partner in crime. When she finally slid out the small opening of the den, the Ollivander felt the ground around his feet begin to crumble, a recurring sensation that stuck him when he felt trapped -- still even under the broad nightsky he couldn't fight the feeling off his chest. He had forgotten how trapped her oblivious view about their relationship made him feel.

Slowly, as she crawled beneath the stars he brought his eyes to inspect her body, searching frantically for any injuries covering her lush silver coat. He knew nothing about the bear, but he was quick to notice the rugged wound stretching over her shoulder. He winced (maybe even visibly) as his eyes traced the gash over and over again, if pained him just to see it -- but she didn't seem bothered by it al all. Aside from the occassional grunt, she even managed to spit out a joke.

I wished it hadn't been you he barked after her joke faded into the nightsky. It did not mean he was not happy to see her; his heart fluttered with joy at the sole sight of her face, but his heart wrinkled every time he rested his eyes on her, because it knew that she was not his.

I thought I'd never see you here again, y'know? You looked pretty determined to leave it all behind leave me behind, he added silently in his head, wondering if he had ever crossed her mind during her time at the Caldera.

It was innevitable for her smile to fade away when being faced with the his pained words. He could've let the conversation take another course by mirroring her mischevious smile and popping a witty remark of his own, it would have given him more time for his eyes to stare upon her face, but every secind would've twisted the knife deeped into his chest.

He was bleeding on the inside, craving for answers that unknowingly might just puncture the wound even deeper. Still it was a chance he was willing to take. Chaising mountain goat along the cliff's edge and stealing eggs out gryfalcons nests was nothing besides facing her. This might've been the most dangerous stunt he had ever attempted, one that with one wrong word could send his whole world spiraling down into flames.

She was quick to answer, flipping the table so that it was him who had to defend his motives first. After a long sigh he brought his chin up, his olive eyes seeking to connect with her own even if she had already turned her face away.

No, I was determined on making my life over. he barked weakly, I was trying to stick to what I had chosen first because I grew tired of being a fuck-up that runs away from it all he continued, his tone hardening as he finished off the last syllable. Though Finn would always have an untammed heart, he was done being an escapist.

But it was that choice what fucked me up the most he finished while narrowing his eyes at her turned face. He didn't mean that he regretted not jumping up and down while following Peregrine into his magical Caldera but that he regretted not at least trying to make her stay.

When pouring his heart into her hands he had not expected for her to pull them away so fast, letting the fragile emotions that he had so vulnerably exposed to her fall into the ground and shatter into millions of tiny fragments as she simply wiped the remaining pieces off her palms. It wasn't the way it was supposed to go.
But that how things with Finley always seemed to go.

She was an unpredictable piece of dynamite that tended to blow off the second you least expected it. It had been that same explosiveness what had first captivated Finnn, but that now pulled him further from her. If this was the end she claimed to be seeing, it was truly a shame he even gave 'it' a beginning.

Running away from the life I had built here, Finley he barked, pained at the sour flavour her name left during this sentence. I had a reason to stay he barked in a much lower tone, suddenly startled by her reaction when she had ran away to the Cladera because of the same reasons.

And I failed to give you a reason not to go he concluded hoarsely, his eyes trading their olive hue for a pale, expressionless mantle of grey.

If she was waiting for him to throw his feeling out the trash and condem their once-blossoming relationship she would have keep waiting for a whole decade, or until his heart stopped beating -- whichever came first.

Her growing irritation only caused the walls of his heart to crumble further, threatening to collapse onto themselves at any minute. He wanted to shake her, to look directly into the chocolately abyss of her eyes and tell her to snap out of it. To make her see he was not the villain but the knight in shiny armor -- at least that's what he tried to be.

He was lucky he was not a mind reader.
Though he would've loved to know what was going through that lovely mind of hers, he was better off not knowing this time. The very fact that she thought of herself not 'good enough' for him would've made his stomach flip and his vocal cords tangle into messy knots. She was good, better and best in his mind and heart.

No, you were off for some great adventure into the unknown, you were off again when I had just caught up to you. he barked, his voice turning into a frustated plead that cut sharply through the crisp Autumn air. You're always on the run, but you don't even know what you're running from he added. Like him, she too had some escapist delusions that had to be worked on.

There would've been nothing wrong if she had voiced her desires from the start; if she had asked for him to come or simply state she would leave instead of leaving him standing in the middle of a meeting. It was not about the wound, but about the soreness than was left behind it.

Finn would never blame her for wanting to move on. It had been that same itching feeling that had driven him out of his birth pack in the first place : the longing for what was yet to come.
If her way to move on from her 'seemingly empty' existence the Plateu meant she had to walk out from it all then fine.
But she could not, and would not place the blame on him for not following. His heart was sure that if it was the Moon they had to run to, there would be no hesitation. The place was not the problem. And neither were the wolves in the Caldera.

While Finn might've not been a fan of Peregrine, he was a good friend of Fox's and that was enough.
It wasn't about the place.
It was the lack of communication -- from both of them alike.
Finn was guilty of swallowing his feelings and burying his emotions underneath the ground. While Finley was the culpirit of not voicing her desires.

Do you wanna keep moving on? he asked dully, wanting it to be her to cut the cord if it was ever meant to be cut. He would not be the one to hang the towel first, but he wouldn't want to be the only one holding it together. If there was still something to fight for they had to both get in the ring.

The trill of the adventure, the adrenaline rush and the lightweight feeling that came when he placed his life in danger were all things he could never say goodbye to. Like her, they were embedded inside of him, tattooed on his skin to forever remain with him.
He would never deny that, not to her especially. It had been after all what they had bonded over -- together they had ran across the whole Plateu, chasing lights in the dead of the night.

Perhaps she had not run fast enough to avoid her feelings to catch up with her, but she was running too fast to allow him to make things right now. Regarless if she wanted to keep being a fugitive to her heart, she would one day get tired of running and he would one day get tired of chasing her.

Slowly, a heavy silence began to settle above them, weighing down on the silver male's back and pushing down his heart into his stomach. He might've not fought a bear, but he still wore his heart on his sleeve. Vulnerable to her indifference and carelessness. He might not have physical injuries civering his body but he did have a wounded heart.
He had fought.
He had fought against the fachade that covered his real-self, he had fought against his fear to get her out of that cave.
He had fought.

But that didn't matter now.
I'm not asking you to come back -- because you are not happy here. he barked softly, his eyes sinking upon her own for a brief second.
Neither of them would dare to voice what their eyes so clearly tried to admit. She had a life now, and a high rank to be proud of, Congratulations, I'm happy for you he barked with a feeble smile, trying to convince her as well as himself of what he had just said.

Take care Finley he sighed at last, his jaw clenching tightly to avoid the word-vomit from spilling out. Telling her how he felt would make no difference now, and probably not ever.