Witch's Marsh Something broken, I thought I could fix it, but it’s broken me

In what seemed almost a strange mockery of the accusation Bronco had thrown at her, Fennec found herself pinioned in place once more, captured by strings when she wanted nothing more than to just fly away and disappear. Last time it had been her hope that Bronco might eventually reappear. This time it was her refusal to allow Killdeer to return to a broken promise.

The resentment burrowed deep and she nursed it, chewing on the edges until nothing was left inside but shredded remnants and raw wounds.

She would not chase him. It had to be done. He'd walked away easily before and she'd forced him to stay. By doing so she'd not only made this her fault - she'd given herself a glimpse of a life they could have, hope for a future full of love and respect and family. A life that was never real because only she had ever wanted it. It had taken her months to get over Penn; this was immeasurably worse.

If he loved you, he wouldn't keep trying to hurt you with mistakes you've already paid for. If he loved you, he wouldn't assume the worst when all you want is to be there for him. If he loved you... he would be here for you. On repeat, over and over. It didn't help, but it helped her pretend.

She'd cried herself to sleep both nights since he left. Tonight she would do it again.

Nothing you can do will make him love you. Nothing you can say will make him trust you. And you - you would never trust him again. Over and over. Until it was etched into her heart and, eventually, permanently scarred within. Maybe then the wanting would stop. The what-ifs would stop.

She felt crazy, mourning a wolf who had walked away without a single thought. It only made the bitterness worse and poisoned her further. She'd have given him everything... but he never asked.

Gripped in her muzzle was the pouch he'd made her... the first gift he'd given her, in the mountains, what felt like a lifetime ago. Fennec's muscles clenched as she felt an ache build up, regret and pain carried up by the memory, mixing with the anger that already had brought her this far.

It wasn't worth it. Opening her jaws, she allowed it to fall, the sinkhole at her feet swallowing it with barely a sound. One by one, his other gifts followed suit... until nothing was left.

It didn't help. Maybe she felt worse.

Maybe that was the point.