Phoenix Maplewood Returning to you

A sad smile befell his face as he watched her take offence to his presence here. He did not realise this was her mother's resting place, but he could see why she would come here, even after it was no longer claimed pack grounds. Her words were harsh and unforgiving, but he could not and did not blame her for any of them. It made sense that she was angry. He remained standing where he was, his face sunken and cheekbones visible, the aftermath of the famine still very much present on him as he looked at her.

"Cicero," he said. He remembered now, shreds of it. How he had talked to Desna, pretending to be someone he was not — well, sort of — and he had pretended to join her pack. He frowned in thought while he tried to piece the pieces together, but all that he kept seeing was the white wolf walking away from him; an act forever associated with Desna, now, for it was while searching for her that this had happened.

He just stood and stared, uncertain what else he should say to her. He knew there was little use in apologising; it would bring her nothing to do so.