Sun Mote Copse A runaway once more

Embry smiled, a faint trace of personal fatigue drifting across his aureate features. He wasn't one to forfeit very easily, nor was he prone to submitting publicly. But his paws were aching, and Jhala had definitely impressed her sentiments: his shoulder was pounding. Similarly, he could visibly see Feyre growing tired. Soon, they would inevitably need to stop.

     It wasn't hard to notice her softening stance as he voiced his thoughts. She obviously knew what it was like to have a sensitive history. If he hadn't been so darn close to collapsing, he would have been more tempted to question her. Anything about this strange girl was captivating, and he found that the more time he spent in her presence, the more time he wanted to spend in her past (and, admittedly, future). A light chuckled escaped his lips. Resting time seem a little far away. 

     He sucked in a breath of cool air as he moved away, noting the sudden acrid tang that filled his pallate. Her sweet scent was lost in the breeze as she moved. He instantly stood, despite the exahustive state of his body, to follow in her path. If she wanted to continue, he would be there every step of the way. "You sure you're ok with this?" He knew there was hardly any alternative, but something about made him apprehensive. He didn't want to be the reason she had regrets.