Phoenix Maplewood darling, a bad romance

For the first time in days, Saena managed something productive. Driven by budding maternal instincts, she was able to forget her sorrows for a while by striking into the ground of the maplewood with a vigor born of hormones alone. With bunched brows and gritted teeth, the woman dug into the relatively soft ground near the base of one of many maple trees, and only made it up to her shoulders when she was abruptly interrupted by a howl.

She headed for the borders at a pace that was awkward but brisk, verging on a waddle but somehow still a little bit graceful. Having lost her heavy thoughts and even forgetting her depression in her work, the alpha female was able to approach somewhat readily, though there were lines of loss and grief—not for Reek or Tavi now, but for herself—etched on her face that would be unmistakable to a trained eye. They gave way to surprise and confusion when she finally drew close to the caller on the borders when familiarity tugged at her mind.

He was different, taller and a little broader and with an ear missing, but she remembered him. The young thing who had confronted Sebastian and, later, danced with her on the cliffs. Her memory thereafter was muddled, and she still believed Sebastian had shoved her from the cliffs, but what little she remembered was enough for her to breathe, "you. What're you doing here? Where'd your ear go?" How did he know where she was was a more important question, because as far as she knew they had never exchanged names or addresses, but she was not unhappy to see him. They had met only twice, so they were far from friends, but he had stood up for her at least once and she remembered him for that and was glad to see him well, minus the ear.