Stavanger Bay Here I stand wearing my heart on my sleeve

Thistle strode forth from the den, intent to go back to the place where she started another den. Nerian was moving in soon, she was fairly certain and she did not want to be in the vicinity of either one of them for a time. She honestly did not know how she could handle anything else. If Ragnar dropped anything else in her lap, she was fairly certain she was to her breaking point. She had met his son though, and he had done well with raising the boy at least, hopefully he was kinder to the woman he claimed to love than his father. Because she was fairly certain he’d meet the business end of her teeth and claws if he didn’t, she couldn’t control his father, but she’d be damned if he did the same mistakes he had when he was in love. She had even thought about attacking Ragnar, but knew without a doubt he could and probably would hurt her and she was still healing technically from the cougar.

So with a heavy mind and an even heavier heart she strode from the heart of the territory towards the outskirts looking for her proverbial Garden of Eden at least to her. She held blue eyes towards the sky, the sunshine hitting them as she looked up and making them look even bluer than they had. The sun kissed her tawny fur making the undertones come out as she trotted across the land, she had done her best to groom all the dirt and everything from her pelt, finding the repetitive motions kept her calmer than she was on the inside at least on the outside. She had done so until her pelt shone. She was determined to not let anyone know how hurt and scared and sad she was anymore. It didn’t work in her favor, so what was the point. One last look behind her she continued on