Hideaway Strath i think i might be scared

Backdated to the 10th.

She stumbled aimlessly through their new home.

Some time may have passed since she first discovered the truth of her family's death, but even so it weighed heavily on her heart as if it had just been yesterday. No amount of time would heal this wolf. Not now.

First it was the small things. FInding out about the feud between The Saints and Ursus, considering the possibility of a war breaking out and that being her "welcome to the pack" present. Then Kynareth constantly insisting on spars. At the time Leigh just assumed he enjoyed showing off, enjoyed the thrill of the fight. But now with a fresh set of eyes, the she-wolf had gained a better understanding, or at least a better theory to why he was so insistent. He just wanted violence. He just wanted to prepare for violence.

Those small things had been like little warning shots. Enough to make her wonder if potential danger was around the corner, but she had no indication of the threat being real.

Aya's death had been the bullet to her heart. Sudden, shocking, no warning. Leigh thought she was being called to a meeting, perhaps to discuss how they'd settle into their new territory. Instead it was an execution, a murder. That bullet piercing her chest, shattering any possibility that there may have been good in these wolves, finally convinced her that the threat was indeed true and dangerous.

But even with a gunshot to the heart, one can still run a short while before finally collapsing. The woman recovered to some extent after the incident, but it eventually caught up to her and she found herself tumbling. Kynareth and Sasha just happened to be the two wolves who found her. She was dying, on her last breath.

And then the realization that it had been Kynareth's former pack who was responsible for the death of her family. Her child.

That was the final shot. By then Leigh was already dead but Kyn and Sasha insisted on firing one last bullet into her skull just to make sure she was gone for good.

Now, the woman wandered with no direction or destination in mind. She barely knew the map, she wasn't aware of where borders ended and began, and yet she kept tripping over herself, pushing to go onwards. For now she'd just walk straight. It was the easiest thing to do for a dead woman.

And then the tears finally came. Leigh had held herself together when confronting Sasha. But now that she was alone, at least she hoped she was, there was no reason to hide what her pack called weakness. It was an ugly cry. Not a sweet little 'give me a hug and kiss' bullshit excuse for tears. It was real sorrow.

That's it. That's it! I'm done! I'm fucking done!

Oh, poor little Kynareth fucking Deagon. Betrayed by his wife and forced to watch his pack die. So sad. My heart. It can't take it, so tragic! But uh... hm, what did you say? God dammit I can't remember. Something... like... 'shit happens, just gotta move on'? Did I get it right?

What if I just... broke my paw, just like that poor girl's? Maybe I could get Nyra to smash it between a couple of rocks. There are rocks nearby, aren't there? Or or! Or, I could stir up shit with the other packs. But, ya know, shit happens! Shit fucking happens! Just gotta move on! I could ruin your whole life but you just gotta move on Kynareth!

Does this make me a bad person.... saying this? I don't care. Who cares!? Clearly The Saints don't. Fuck pathetic me, am I right!?

It rumbled in her throat. Her sobs oh so gracefully transitioning into a strained and deep laughter. Leigh didn't mean to laugh. But there wasn't much else to do, having her emotions all fucked up and whatnot.

Leigh was like a scale. She wasn't perfect, she would always be a little unbalanced. But for the most part she was alright. A good wolf. A kind wolf.

The type of wolf who could so easily aspire to greatness or descend into madness.

Perhaps it was cliche. The good girl gone bad over a little crush. It wasn't even a crush. What she had with Kynareth was just a simple case of the projection of one's feelings for another on the closest person nearby. But even so, cliches come from somewhere. They have to be based in some sort of reality, right?

The she-wolf's cackling erupted, her jaws parting as she fell into a laughing fit.

Fuck everyone. Fuck the trees and fuck the water. I won't lose my mind because of you Kynareth, or your little girlfriend! I'll lose my mind because I choose to! Take that you little good for nothing sorry excuse for a wolf piece of shit!

With a sigh the woman managed to control herself. The surrounding air becoming once again quiet, Leigh swung her head around in each direction. As if she were a child looking both ways before crossing a road but never told when to stop and finally cross the damn thing.

She didn't know what she was looking for. A distraction, maybe?

She spun in circles, slim legs getting tangled in each other as the dizziness set in.

Then finally Leigh stopped. Coming to a halt, she swiftly dipped her head downwards to the dirt ground, hunched over and still.

And she dug.

One paw at a time she scraped away at the earth as dust flew back behind her into a large mess of a pile.

"Isn't this great!? Life has been one hell of a ride, hasn't it? Such fun times. Maybe it'll be a nice bedtime story for the kids."

There was no knowing why exactly Leigh chose to dig a hole.

Perhaps it was either a grave for herself or Kynareth.

The night is quiet — until it’s not. His ears swivel due to what he believes is a laugh. It’s gone just as quickly as it arrives. It’s so faint he can’t hardly hear it. It doesn’t sound like anything to be concerned with. Probably just some Saints having a good time and cracking jokes at each other maybe? Without him? How dare they. So a smile crosses his maw as he sets off into the forest, beginning into a brisk trot. 

Yet when he gets into the general area he finds nothing but a certain, very upset females scent: Leigh. He has to follow it, his smile quickly fading, now that Sasha isn’t stuck to his ass he can get some alone time with her. If she doesn’t kill him that is. So onwards he goes, following it and it goes every which way, a confusing pattern and his brows furrow wondering what exactly she’s doing.

Until he finally finds her and he sees dirt flying and her body working quickly at digging a hole. He approaches quietly, surely she’s too distracted by her hole digging. So he stands a few feet behind her and murmurs out her name.

“Leigh.” Comes his distinct voice. Who else could that be? “Let’s talk. Without Sasha.” Are his hopeful words.

As soon as the familiar voice speaks her name, Leigh comes to a swift halt. With dirt gathering painfully beneath her nails and paws still planted into the ground, covered with dust, she does not turn to look at him.

The woman listens to the wolf's words, but refuses to meet his eyes. Although she had never met the girl named 'Simmik', nor had ever heard of her, perhaps withholding her similar orange gaze would only hurt Kynareth more. If that was the case, Leigh was content with her choice to keep her back towards the alpha.

"Yes. Let's."

With her ears twisting around, she took a seat. The fur on her legs were still littered with dirt and she was currently sitting on one of the piles she had formed, but she did not mind. It wasn't worth her focus at the moment.

"That sickly wolf threatened me at the execution. So if I happen to have a little accident you know who to blame. As for your wife, Sasha I suppose her name is now, she didn't seem too pleased with me either."

Dipping her head and tilting it to the side, Leigh teased Kynareth with a potential glance, but didn't fall through with the empty promise. A somewhat cruel smile lifted her lips, and for once the woman wasn't the sweet girl she appeared to be.

"I'm sure this is all a surprise to you, my sudden shift in attitude. But I assure you, I've been this way before. It isn't new."

She huffed, taking a pause before resuming.

"Ever since I met my husband, I have been working oh so hard on my 'self improvement'. My kindness and sweetness has always been sincere, and I'd be slightly offended if this were the case but you'd be mistaken if you thought I lacked the depth to be cunning or sharp."

And then finally, she faced him. Perhaps she waited to add to the slightly dramatic effect. Leigh wasn't one to pass up adding to the atmosphere. But she found it suitable that only now they'd meet eye to eye.

"Call me narcissistic, but I know you care about me. I've wiggling my way into your little black heart and both you and I know it. So I also know that you wouldn't dare allow anything bad to happen to me. Which leads me to the question... How could you possibly handle the thought of choosing between a strong, pure pack, and my safety? Because I'm pretty sure that sickly wolf was serious about my accident."

The she-wolf released a delighted hum, her smile only widening. Her orange gaze remained pinned to Kynareth, so despite staying seated it was as if her eyes circled him.

"If you've come here to make amends, or at least try to, again, think long and carefully about what you say next. Because if your plan involves death, well... You've already tainted your twisted apology. And that simply won't do. Forgive me for my high standards but, I'm afraid you'll have to try better."

Yes let’s. Comes her quirky, but dark response and he wants to smile. He shouldn’t though, it’d be inappropriate. Yet he doesn’t say a word as he looks down the lithe, athletic form of her back, appreciating the view even from this angle. 

She speaks of Doris’ threatening her during the execution. Sasha being his wife. The fact that she’s more than capable of hurting his feelings and she’s not just a sweat little wolf to be pushed around how everyone else pleases. Though he suspected this in the beginning and saw more and more of it as he watched her, he isn’t all that surprised. One thing he is surprised about is the creativity of her insults — definitely not bad if he has anything to say about it.

Though as she goes on he is shocked to hear her say that she’s aware of his feelings towards her. Of course she can tell he cares about her. Hell, he’s never hidden it, but to hear her say it out loud makes him sound like a fucking sissy. Even as she turned to meet his eyes finally he’s sighing mentally. Well, there goes his plan to inform her of his plans to kill his bitch of an ex wife like it might make a difference to the dark pelaged woman.

“Leigh.” He sighs with a light shake of his head and a brief closing of eyes. “I am who I am. I do, however, want to make amends to you. You’re not wrong, I like you. I’d even be willing to say more than some of the other Saints.” He sits down, ready for the long haul. “This is how this pack will be for as long as I’m leading it. And Dorus —“ A pause. “Dorus won’t harm you. Not physically anyway. He knows the importance of what he and I agreed to when he came here to become a part of the Saints.”

He looks to her. “Everything that’s happened is fucking crazy and the coincidence of your families death due to my orders are not something I can just take back. I do wish for us to be...” another pause and he’s looking up into the dreary night sky. A hum of thought, then a reply. “Not bickering like an old married couple I guess.” Is all he can say. He doesn’t want to get too sappy.

She scoffed. An old married couple?

Kynareth had allowed the she-wolf to have her little speech, and she wasn't completely devoid of emotion so she returned the same favor. She waited politely before he finished, though she did not hide her reaction to his words as soon as they stopped.

There was a small yet triumphant smile upon her face as she savored the moment he finally declared his feelings. Leigh had been waiting to hear such words for a long time, not to feed her own ego, but to gain some validation. It was nice to know another, especially one as powerful as Kynareth, acknowledged and appreciated her strengths. It was nice to know another took interest, and that perhaps the woman wasn't as boring as she first thought.

But now things were different, and the excitement was no longer there. Instead she congratulated herself for finally receiving a confession so she could use the wolf's feelings to her own advantage.

"I don't blame you for the death of my family. There was no way you could have known they were mine. Even if you knew I must have been around somewhere, the scene was too chaotic to know it was I who was the mother to that child."

She then paused, taking a breath. She thought of how to continue, but only for a moment. Leigh followed up her previous statement with one that was slightly more bitter.

"But I do blame you for the death of a family. The death of many families. It doesn't matter if you did or didn't know that wolf and child were my husband and daughter. You gave the orders to kill them anyway. Why does knowing me now change how you feel about that incident? Do you really need to care about a wolf to care about the ones around them? What if my family was still alive and we traveled here together? How would you cope with your feelings for me knowing my heart belonged, and still does, to another? Would you kill him just to rid of the competition?"

The woman didn't necessarily expect an answer to all of her questions. She simply wanted to see a reaction was all.

He’s surprised by the calm demeanor Leigh gives herself. He has to give her credit, even he didn’t take his family getting killed as good as it seems she has. He lost his fucking mind when it happened and his simplistic, primal brain just wouldn’t let him rest and he was overtaken — possessed — with a fit of horrifying rage. He wanted to kill everyone he set eyes on. He wanted to hurt everyone and anyone he came across because he himself didn’t quite know how to take the loss. What he did to Aphrodite was one of the results of his splitting anger. 

Kynareth’s nothing but a royal, spoon-fed brat who hadn’t known any real or significant loss until that point in his life. He was the son of a king and he had not a worry in the world being handed down one of the most powerful packs in the area. He did what he wanted and took what he wanted. Not used to not getting what he wants — spoiled.

So he nods to her and continues to watch her even as she becomes bitter. Though if she thinks she could use his blooming fondness to her as an advantage she is wrong. He is ready and willing to sacrifice most relationships in order to get what needs to be done, done. He’s a warmonger before all else — as his father taught him. 

“Me knowing you now makes the world of difference to me.” He begins casually. “If I don’t have a personal relationship with someone, I do not care what happens to them. They’re free game to rip and tear open with my teeth and leave ‘em for the fucking scavengers.” Towards the end his voice becomes a bit more assertive, but he overall succeeds in keeping a controlled visage. “No, I wouldn’t have killed your husband or family to get rid of competition.” Then he smiles diabolically, the upwards tilt of his lips horribly handsome but just not right — malicious and teasing. “But your husband wouldn’t have stoped me from trying my luck with you, dear.” He hums silky smooth to her, golden eyes gleaming humorously to her.

Leigh was... different. Not an "I'm special" type of different. Rather, she had a particular way of viewing and handling the world.

When she caught a glimpse of the fallen bodies of her mate and child, there were no tears. Even after she had days to process what had just happened, she never cried like the others. There was grief, and there was pain, but at the time there were no obvious signs that she was dealing with such feelings.

She left home not because she was unable to get anything done. In fact, she often took charge in the rebuilding of their pack as a distraction. Leigh had left home because everything and everyone around her were constant reminders of what she, of what they had all lost. And since the woman had a reputation for giving advice and helping the needs of others, many wolves came flocking to her for comfort, completely oblivious to her own frustration and sadness, all because she didn't cry. Because in this world, if you don't cry, you're not grieving.

It was no surprise that Kynareth, or any other wolf saw her calmness as rather odd. The she-wolf had turned away too quickly to see, but she was sure she left Sasha a bit stumped after their confrontation as well.

Leigh hadn't, and still didn't take the death of her family well. They kept her grounded in reality and now without them, she was floating between alignments and more-likely to give into violent temptations. Although the woman had kept herself contained, she would have been more than happy to kill Sasha during their previous talk. She still wanted to kill Sasha, but ignoring the pathetic bitch seemed to have left a bigger impact that a simple fight would have.

A few of Kynareth's words slipped her mind as she was consumed by thought. But Leigh managed to catch enough to knit the sentences together and obtain a general understanding of his reponces. And after he was finished, only one word came to mind.

Disgusting.

They were talking about her dead family and yet Kyn still turned it into an opportunity to flirt. Was she surprised? No. But that only made it more disappointing.

For now, the woman only had one simple message to send to the tiger-wolf. Perhaps she had tried expressing something similar before, but now she'd make her words loud and clear.

"You are free to blame so much on other wolves. You can blame your parents, you can blame their deaths. You can blame your loss and pain. All of your frustration, anger, and vengfulness can be explained away by what has happened in your past. But hurting people, killing people. That is your choice."

Maybe Kynareth would never truly understand. Maybe it was because he wasn't a real wolf.

"When we first met, I could see it in your eyes. You weren't happy because I was a brand new face that you could manipulate and mold. When you saw me you saw someone familiar. I don't know who it is, and I don't know why I remind you of someone else. But I know that some part of you, regardless of how small, looked at me and saw another wolf because that's exactly what I did when I met you."

Her once assertive tone softened, but the harshness in her voice remained. It was wrong to confuse calmness with forgiveness.

"And that fondness doesn't just come from nowhere. You don't project one's face onto another if, according to you, you don't care about or value relationships. That behavior sprouts from pain and loss. You do have the ability to care about other people. And you are hurt when those relationships fail or die. So, Kynareth Deagon, you are no monster. You're just pathetic."

At her first words he’s knitting his brows together, clearly disagreeing with her mentally. Yet he doesn’t say anything yet. They’re going back and forth and it was just be polite if he continued to allow it to carry on like that. 

Before it’s his turn to defend once more. He scoffs this time. “You’re wrong. I don’t blame my behavior on any of that shit.” He spits. “I consciously make these decisions and know what could come from them. I know what I do is bad, but does that stop me? No.it might stop me if I truly cared enough to, but that’s not often that that happens.”

He is surprised she could tell he saw Simmik in her, but that’s besides the point. Sadly, whereas Leigh reads too far into it, he does not. For he only made the simple connection to their twin, pumpkin colored eyes. Besides that, Leigh is her own person and he likes different things about her individually just as he did about Simmik or anyone else. 

“Leigh. You overcomplicate me. I am a simple man, really. I like to kill, so I kill. I like to fuck, so I fuck. I like to lead my pack and I care for every individual in it. So I do what I must to take care of you all. I make most, if not every decision, with my pack in mind. I play the fucking good boy so my pack doesn’t get completely fucking obliterated. I wouldn’t give a rats ass if it was just me, but I’m also responsible for all of you. So I can’t just go around making the decisions I used to when I don’t have the numbers to back it up. Back then, I did. Also not to sound fucking sappy, but I like you for who you are not for who you remind me of.”

So then he shrugs once more. “Think of me pathetic, but I know who I am. I can and do care for others I’m just very selective of who they are. I can be very loyal, but only to those who’ve shown me the same light. Only to those who deserve it. I’m not a fucking charity case, dear. I thought you’d have figured that out by now.” He ends heartlessly, even though his previous words did have a hint of heartfelt emotion in them. He stares right at her a d nods once. “You’re right. I am hurt by those I care about. I can get hurt. I can feel loss and sorrow. So I show it? No. When I do though, it’s not in the ways most do. I’m sorry to say but if you think you’ve figured me out, you haven’t yet. You might in the future, but as of right now, you’re looking for questions you don’t have the answer to. And you won’t be getting them any time soon.” 

He stands and pads towards her. “You don’t have to forgive me, but for Christ sake stop giving me the damn silent treatment and avoiding me. ‘Cause at this rate, you’d be doing for the remainder that you know me. I will probably continue doing fucked up shit that you don’t agree with and that’s just how I am and I’m not changing anytime soon.”

He was right.

Leigh was the type of wolf to overcomplicate things. It was just how she was. The she-wolf had a way of seeing the complexity of the world. She didn't just see a tree, she saw a heavily detailed system of lifeforms. She saw how the tree was structured, where it was placed and how that could potentially influence it's life expectancy. She saw a home for prey and the leaves forming a blanket to protect from the elements. Was it a useless skill? Most of the time. Was it an annoying skill? Definitetly. But it had some truth to it. Not everything was black and white. Not even the tiger-wolf.

They took turns listening to each other only to argue back and in some cases, totally contradict their words from earlier. The conversation wasn't getting anywhere but the woman saw it as an opportunity to vent her feelings. To express her true colors to Kynareth and rid of this "sweet cinnamon roll" bullshit that kept following her around. She was no cinnamon roll. She was the god damn oven who burns fucking muffins.

"The only reason you choose evil over good is because it's fucking easy. Evil asks nothing of you. It requires no courage, dignity, or willpower to turn your back and allow the world to decend into chaos. It requires no strength to self destruct and fall into the hands of addiction. Because that's what evil is. It isn't purpose or personality. It's a disease, one which you actively turn away the cure for. It is failure."

And then she picked up on his earlier words. A certain pain struck her heart as she heard the sentence flow from his mouth. How he truly cared for her, regardless of who she may remind him of. But she had to push aside such feelings. Especially for what she had to say next.

"And too bad I can't say the same for you. Unfortunately I only agreed to join this pack because I was too exhausted to turn down familiarity and comfort. Donovan, perhaps, but even he was just a poorly crafted substitute for my husband. And I've brought nothing but shame to my mate's name just by associating you with him."

It wasn't true. A small part of Leigh felt the same. Donovan, who she now viewed as dead, had captured a little piece of her heart all on his own. Very few wolves could make the woman laugh. Truly laugh. And yet Donovan had, quite a few times. He showed her the canyons, ones she missed dearly. They were like a dream. Warm and vibrant. He took her to the wildflower fields, and although they brought back memories filled with pain, they were also reminders of that sweet summer she spent with her family. He took her on a date, they spared, hell, he even called a pack meeting just to introduce her. And she wasted it. She had stood there like an ungrateful bitch who was completely oblivious to the kind gesture that Donovan had created just for her.

Maybe if she had done things differently Aya wouldn't have died. Maybe if she hadn't given Donovan advice about their beef with Ursus, he wouldn't have spoken to Merrick. If he hadn't spoken to Merrick, perhaps they wouldn't have had to leave the canyons. Then he would have never met Dorus. And Aya never would have been murdered. Maybe, in one universe, Aya could have avoided the incident that broke her paw all together just from luck.

Maybe maybe maybe!!!

She could taste the metalic blood dribbling down her throat again. In all the frustration she had punched her still healing tongue. An old habit, one that she thought she had given up a long time ago. She never meant to hurt herself, it was just a way to avoid hurting others.

Don't cry, don't cry! Don't cry you pathetic bitch! Don't let this pathetic wolf bring tears to your eyes. You're better than this. Or maybe you aren't. Maybe you're just as stupid and weak and braindead, and... fuck, those all mean the same thing. Maybe you're just like Kynareth!

And then everything came to a halt. With a deep breath, Leigh kept herself calm and collected. Pumpkin eyes remained focus on her alpha, she spoke once more.

"There will be a day where you will lie helplessly on the verge of death. Blood spilling from your wounds. I will be there, standing over you with nothing but disappointment across my face. And yet I will not kill you. I will help you to your feet, nurse you back to health, bring you food and keep your company. Then I'll throw you right back to the dogs, because a sick man like you is too dangerous to let roam freely."

She knew her words would leave the wolf confused. So the woman explained further with vemon spilling from her lips.

"But why would I help you only to let you die? Because right before the light leaves your eyes, I want you to see the face of a wolf who you failed to corrupt. I want you to see a wolf you never got to fuck."

He’s shocked by her words once again. The only joining because she associated him with her old, dead, husband and all the other stuff combined on top. So he huffs and stands from his comfortable spot on the grass. He looks her dead in the eyes. 

“A shame really.” He hums. “I haven’t got shit to say to that. So you win, darling.” His voice is sarcastically joyous. “We’re just sitting here fucking arguing with each other. You did this, I did that. Neither one of us are going to change then. So let’s agree to disagree then.” He ends. “We’re both stubborn bastards. So only because I’m fucking sick of going back and worth with you, you win. It’s late and I’m an old fucking man, I don’t have enough energy for this shit.” He turns and begins sauntering off in the opposite direction. He’s not married but fuck he fights with everyone like he is. “Goodnight, Leigh.” He hums quietly with a finality to his voice that lets her know that he’s done. He would turn and continue walking unless stopped.

It hit him hard, and she could tell.

At this point Leigh didn't care one bit in regards to how much her words stung. Even if she didn't originally intend for them sound so harsh, the damage they left was no concern to her. She knew that Kynareth would probably spit similar insults right back at her if he had any leverage.

But this wouldn't do. The she-wolf was stubborn, but it was only out of a desire to win. To win fairly. There was no knowing who was right or wrong about the morals they discussed, but there were certain things that Leigh just knew about him. Of course there was always a chance that she was incredibly far off with her guesses, but considering the defeat in Kyn's eyes she could tell something landed a hit.

And an opponent giving up didn't necessarily mean a win for the woman. Wanting to go to bed didn't mean the fight was over. There was still so much more she had left to say, but perhaps she'd reserve that for a different conversation. Maybe even repurpose some of them for the other Saints she planned on chewing out.

You're wrong. I'm perfectly willing to change, I'm just not a fan of the idea of becoming a fucking murderer you dingus!

Leigh was tempted to run after the tiger-wolf. Latch onto his ear or something and drag him back like an angry mother. But right now, especially in the state he was in, that plan seemed too risky. Maybe she'd convince Kynareth to stay just a little longer with her words instead. Besides, it was quite entertaining to watch as the wolf's curled tail bobbed in the air as he walked away, all because Leigh had way too much free time to come up with insults for literally no reason but to use them in situations like this. Just to win.

Though her face remained still and blank on the surface, inside she was pouting like a child. She had changed her mind. Now, all she wanted was to run after him and fight it out. Leigh didn't have skill, but in a mood like this she disregarded all pain and discomfort. She'd fight him until one of them dropped dead. Either he'd die, or Kynareth would be forced to kill a wolf he cared for.

And yet she couldn't. She couldn't admit the fact that her own violence and rage matched his own. In that case he would win, and being defeated by such a pathetic wolf like Kyn was worse than death. If she were dead, at least that way her ghost could choose to leave the tiger-wolf's victory. So instead she settled for one last insult.

"If you don't have enough energy to keep up with a wolf half your size then good luck winning whatever war you end up starting. I won't be around to fix your hip you crusty old man."

The dark pelaged woman doesn’t say much as he begins to leave. He can feel her eyes on his back though, he doesn’t care give her the satisfaction of him glancing to her one last time before her leaves.

Yet, exactly when he thinks he’s finally heard the last of her, her smooth voice sounds out once more and he sighs out a breathy laugh. He doesn’t stop his languid pace and keeps his face forward.

“Ha ha.” He lets out a sarcastic, dry laugh. “Alright, Leigh. You say that until you’re getting slaughtered by those very wolves because you can’t defend yourself and you know it.” An ominous pause as he keeps walking, confidence in his step. “The weak serve their purpose. You’ll see that soon enough.” kyn ends eerily.

It seemed that the conversation, or rather, argument was coming to a close. But even then, the tiger still spoke, and their back and forth bickering continued. However at this point Leigh was far too exhausted to bother anymore. She'd curse at him silently as his curly tail floated away.

I'll rip that unholy thing right from your spine.

The woman couldn't help but feel a laugh approaching as Kynareth's words echoed throughout the trees. Stuffing it down, she instead opted for a huff, but she found nothing but amusement in his weak insults.

Oh darling, I don't have the need to defend myself. I'll be on the fucking offence.

It was sad. At one point in time they had been on a sweet little date in the wildflower fields. Bouncing around as they sparred and laughter after they were finished. For the she-wolf, it was heartbreaking how downhill their relationship had gone. To onlookers it seemed that this ending was inevitable, but Leigh wasn't one to believe that fate was set in stone. A part of her wondered if she had done a few things differently during her time here, if she could have spared them this pain.

Perhaps it was easy to miss but as a tactic to avoid such feelings the woman decided it was best to call the tiger-wolf by his real name. Even though Kynareth Deagon and Donovan Azura inhabited the same body, to her, they were two separate people. She met the kind wolf Donovan, who welcomed her into the Saints with a warm smile. But then Kynareth killed him the same day the Saints killed Aya, and Leigh was left under the rule of a monster.

She should have run. It was true. A small part of her was afraid that she may be hunted down but she was sure some of the surrounding packs, like the one they bumped into upon arriving would help her out. Even then there were countless other confusing reasons, half that didn't even make sense, for her to stay. Leigh was never the type of wolf to be full of herself, but she was aware of her strengths. She knew she was considerate and caring, and that she might deeply hurt some of the friends she had made since walking into Teekons if she were to leave. Locke in particular came to mind.

For now she'd let Kynareth go. Turning around, her back facing him once more, she stared down at the hole she had dug. With a heavy sigh she began filling the empty patch back in, scooping the dirt from various piles.

You could have been a great wolf, Deagon. We all could have been happy. And Donovan, I'm sorry we didn't have more time together.

Kynareth’s saddened by how it had to end between the two of them. He genuinely cares for Leigh. Would love to imagine they could’ve been more in another life, maybe even this one. Though it’s painfully obvious that she isn’t willing to accept him for who he is. Neither could Simmik. Sasha though. Sasha did — could. He can’t convince himself to trust her ever again though. Even if she is serious about starting a family with him again. A real family. They could raise their pups to be little terrorists just like their handsome father and beautiful mother. Again, maybe in another life Donovan would be naive enough to trust her once more, but not this one.

Same for Leigh. Though he fully expects her to lash back once more, he’s only met with silence and it almost worries him. It takes everything in his will power to not look back. To go back over to her and keep trying to convince her. But it’s been two attempts at that and he’s come out fruitless. Is there any real point anymore? Maybe? He’d find out another day. He’d try again. No matter if the outcome will be the same. He’d try again. Just not tonight, he’s too tired. Maybe he is getting old.