Ravensblood Forest We're bound to break and my hands are tied.

They’re relationship had been driven by a force neither had seemed to understand, but he wasn’t willing to let it go. Relief at her words – and that her intention had not to leave him, simply the forest, he allowed his muscles to relax now. She leaned further in to him, and he remained silent for a moment, his muzzle swinging to preen gently at the thick fur of her neck – though would pull himself up quickly, remaining firm in his touch against her. His.
 
“You’ve thought about this for some time,” he guessed, his eyes drifting back to the forest. He was fond of their home – but not of the popularity the coast now heralded. He had chosen the forest purely to be close to the sea, to Donnelaith, and to thumb his nose figuratively at one of the old packs that had shadowed over the borders of his old home, as well. His home was not within the trees of the sequoia – it was at the side of the woman who remained nestled against him.