Northstar Vale I will find out where she has gone

In that moment, inveigled by instinct and a great ardor, Warbone felt he could chase her forever. Chase her until the bones in his legs had long splintered through sheer exertion; until his heart had given out from exhaustion. He knew he would pursue her always, and defend her honor against all war and other suitors. Previously he'd been disillusioned, thinking that he could love no wolf and no place more than her could ever love the Keep... the willows. But they fled his thoughts now, clouded by this new haven, and the liberator that had drawn him here.

To him, she would always lead him to his sanctuary, and forever his wild spirit would insist he give chase.

Of her own volition she relented, curving herself just out of his view, as he came trotting to a stop. Tongue lolling, he followed eagerly, slower as he realized she had at last stopping running. "Mmm," he growled, ducking his head as his single eye set on her with ravenous intent. He had never felt inclined to mount a woman outside of her season, but the emotion had very clearly blossomed within him now, and its foreignness roused him further.

Warbone lifted his head, his expression alert— aware that she could bolt again at any moment— as he prowled closer, and lifted a broad forepaw to set experimentally upon the curve of his small monarch's rump.