The Heartwood Don't you think 'bout me enough?

Solarus stomped across the terrain, swiping at lolling branches and unsuspecting bugs. The prideful male was losing his composure a bit, uncommitted to a current direction or even destination for that matter. That was her? Clear as day. He wasn’t imagining it? Lunaria.

He stopped for a moment, letting out a frustrated sigh. He gave his broad shoulders a simple shake, as if to realign his thoughts. Composure. He needed to regain his composure. That was the way of a warrior.

She looked so—different now—worlds apart and loyalties shifted. How could things ever return to any resemblance of what they use to be? He had so much to tell her and he just—he was so relieved to—
Sol’s ears perked at the faint yet unmistakable sound of Lunaria’s voice and he abruptly turned about, his tail wagging expectantly.

“Lunaria!” he called before lowering his muzzle and taking off after her scent.