Ghost Lion Crag i will not let my future go on without the help of my soul

dated 1/4/19 - hoping for a @Wraen <3

following arcturus' rather unfortunate encounter with Towheat The Mankiller, arcturus could not bring himself to go home.

not yet.

for one, there was no hiding his shame. it exuded out of him like a rank miasma, and anyone would be able to see and taste it. for two, towhee's scent still lingered on him, persistent in its presence. he rolled and rolled in the snow, rubbed against pine-boughs until his normally perfectly smooth fur was disheveled, and still, he imagined he could scent her within every blade of dark hair on his hide.

he wanted so badly to return home - to talk to someone about what had happened. he was still so wildly out of sorts about it himself. it wasn't just his feelings that had been hurt -- he felt violated to his core, to be used and then cast aside like he wasn't even worth a conversation! how could someone treat another animal that way?

for a senseless organ, he bitterly noted his dick sure had a lot of emotions about all of this.

arcturus' first instinct was to tell @Dirge, but he knew it would come at a great cost: the man's high impression of him. for that, arcturus stayed in the crag, and vowed to keep his union with towhee a secret from moonspear for as long as he could.

there were no others he could turn to. hydra would be furious, and he dared not endure her rage. once he had sworn he would keep nothing from her, and now he was breaking that promise as he had promised he would never do.

how could he fuck up so many things, with one "simple" fuck?

there was only one other friend in the world, that he trusted to cast his shameful stone upon. wraen. part of him wished to hide his lapse of judgment from him too, for he still was breathless when he recalled them sparring -- and he knew, he might have ruined his chances with her by bedding towhee. but she was worldly. she was kind.. and arcturus needed both in this moment.

staggering through the dark, arcturus waited fitfully for dawn to come. when it did, he threw back his head and howled for wraen, hoping against hope she might be nearby, and could be the maiden to salve his tender sorrows.