There was a subtle curve to her figure now, that was an undoubted fact; but Njal did not look upon her in such a way. He watched her face. The spark in her eyes as the pupils dilated, the gasp of her lips as she breathed his name, and then the touch - her touch - upon his skin.
As much as he wanted to hold back, he could not. Njal was powered towards her through the monumental chasm that gapped them; he brought himself so close that his breath played across the curve of her neck, as he ducked and pressed close. A wolfish hug. His chest pressed against her own, mingling silver and copper. His ice and her own fire.
"Proudheart.." He breathed, the name thrumming from his core; lavished with a meek tone. At first Njal didn't know what to say beyond that - he sank to his haunches, breathing her in. He did eventually build up the courage to speak, but he did not sound as confident as he had felt just hours before. "Proudheart I am sorry. I did not mean to leave you behind."