Swiftcurrent Creek If ever I could love, I think it could be with you.

She rested quietly while she awaited Constantine's arrival, nosing gently at the marrings of her extrended forelimbs. Tenderly, her tongue swept over the bloodied ivory fur there, but she winced at the sting of her own touch. Only the larger wounds had re-opened in her days of travel but Durnehviir persisted, knowing that she could not risk infection, and halted only at the sound of another's approach.

Ears pressed forward to listen, she peered through the darkness with tired champagne eyes in search of the swarthy Alpha. Relief allowed her weary muscles to slacken at the mere sight of him and, with an exhale of breath, the dragoness pulled herself shakily onto three unsteady limbs to clutch her most sensitive fore to her chest. She hobbled forward a little with a softly sweeping tail, eager to fit herself into his embrace, but Constantine made no move to welcome her home.

Her heart sank. Her lobes fell back. Durnehviir blinked up at him, holding back the whine that tightened her throat, and mentally kicked herself for expected anything more than this. She had brought this ruin upon them, after all, with her insecurity and accusation - she knew that now. "Viinturuth," she answered simply, disheartened gaze dropping briefly to the frozen ground as she tried to keep from crumbling again, "it was not his fault, I... I pushed him too far. He didn't want to be found." 

Unable to keep herself upright, the wounded wolfess lowered her exhausted hindquarters and dared to seek the Alpha's tangerine gaze, longing to see a familiar warmth within that she knew she may never find. "I'm sorry," she offered then, probably too little and too late. For everything.