Fox's Glade you are the moon

While the dark male could generally conceal himself within the night, he hadn't taken any measures to conceal his scent. He growled lowly to himself for the mistake. He had known, deep down, that she would follow him, and he should have done more to cover his trail. But of course, the question became why hadn't he. Sorin was well versed in covering his tracks, from scent to sight to sound. In many ways, concealing his tracks from those he didn't want to run into had become second nature to him. So why hadn't his 'instincts' kicked in? Had he wanted to meet her again, to speak with her? He scoffed at the notion, but he knew deep down that he maybe he wasn't being entirely honest with himself.

She called out, and he stopped, deciding that it would be incredibly rude to continue his flight now. He listened to her speak, saying that she was sorry and that maybe they could start over. Start over, start what over exactly he thought, puzzled. His face showed none of his confusion though, as his expression was once again a carefully cultivated neutrality. "I told you, you don't have to be sorry. It isn't your fault," he said lowly.