Hideaway Strath Oh, Fortune

Oryx paused hesitantly when she saw Arlette turn and clap her eyes upon her. Her ears lifted for a moment- as it was good to see a familiar face, so pretty even with patches of fur and skin uneven from scratches and healed bite marks. The wolf she tracked was unmistakably Arlette but the twitch of her lips and the posture she held were not familiar- and caused Oryx to sink back against the ground in submission. She felt her throat tighten as she saw the roundness of Arlette's belly, and felt an ache in her heart. Once before she had seen Arlette with child, and she could still remember the scent of those little bodies, to which she had clutched so fervently following their miscarriage. It was with familiarity stripped of all warmth that Arlette spoke and Oryx knew, then- or thought she knew- how disappointed Arlette was with her. She shouldn't have come. 

She had abandoned the pack in its hour of need, in the wake of the attack, and she'd been so hopeful when she'd first caught Arlette's scent that perhaps she had been naive to think she would be welcomed. She'd not stayed to help the family out. She had not stayed to fight off the intruders or protect her packmates. She had been a coward, and had run. Out of all the wolves, she had thought that Arlette might be the most forgiving- but now...She sincerely doubted that, and she could feel the heavy weight of disappointment settling between her shoulderblades like a hot brand. 

"I am sorry...I caught your scent, I...Was curious, and I was met by Ky...Kynareth, he said you lived here, I..." Now she wasn't so sure why she had decided to track Arlette down. Perhaps because some foolish part of her heart still hoped that they could be friends, or that some shred of that fondness still existed. She fell silent, then, thinking herself stupid for ever having thought that Arlette might overlook her cowardice and remember the friendship they had shared.