Otatso Wetlands my life, my love, my drive, it came from pain

He continued north, his shoulder brushing against the delicate ivory of his companion every so often as he steered them away from the North West, where the scent smoke seemed more prevalent. He wasn’t about to take either of them in to what could still be a fire, though he knew the measure of caution was partly coddling. Some things never changed when it came to the two.
 
“You deserve an apology,” he muttered, knowing that perhaps it shouldn’t be just from him. An ear flicked in irritation, and as rain began to patter gently on the ground, he huffed quietly. “She doesn’t trust me.” The words aloud felt terrible out loud, and he continued to grind his teeth together in quiet speculation. The simple fact that he had taken Aria with him would only fuel the fire – and he was intent that the pale dove wouldn’t be consumed by the flames.