Sun Mote Copse if heaven's grief brings hell's rain

@Mara Susi

He was admittedly a little far from Tindómë's borders, given how recently he had approached the pack to join. But he would return soon, once he had walked off whatever... this was. The walks seemed to help less lately-- being around others was causing things to bubble and rise to the surface. Things he'd rather forget. 

Nathaniel had never been great at managing his emotions. As a boy they had always gotten the best of him, twisted him into an ugly bitter little thing, quick to snap and slow to apologize. The harsh life of a soldier had taught him to stuff them away, bottle them, but the storm still raged within. More so when it had a reason. He allowed himself, briefly, to picture what he had lost.

But then their cries filled his ears-- hers, his mate's, as she bled out on the battlefield-- and that of his pups, their wails as they starved while he could only watch helplessly. He had carried them for miles to find someone, anyone, who could nourish them. It had been for nothing.
His ears flattened and he stopped suddenly, taking a moment to survey the forest around him. It was dark, lonely; the perfect place for his brooding, he thought.