Bonesplinter Ravine The Art Of Breaking

Simmik rolled her eyes, although she knew the other woman wouldn't be able to see it from where she hid her face in the shadows. At least she left soon after that. The quiet of the night was almost deafening, mostly because she missed Mal and her forest so much that her chest ached. What she would give to see Mal's face peer over the edge of pit—his voice calling down and reassuring her that he would get her home. It made her eyes water. 

Before she could commit to the tears, though, she heard steps approaching, then they stopped, and she felt something drop next to her face, hitting her muzzle as it landed. She lifted her head and studied the rabbit with confusion, her gaze lifting up to Kynareth's packmate. Sadness filled her expression as the other woman spoke, and she looked down at her paws. He had a heart once, she said quietly. I saw it. But where was it now? Was it buried too deep inside for her to find? As for the rabbit, she ignored it. She might give in later, but for now, she didn't want anything from his pack.