Hideaway Strath I know that you want one more night

the storm was perfect.

Sasha was never far from the Saint's domain. Lurking from afar. never near, but never very far.

light flashed above the hills and she moved in.

Sasha was no more than a trick of the light as lightning slashed the skies, cleaving the heavens with its thunderous roar.

rain soaked through her pelt, running down her legs in torrents. washing her scent away as quickly as it was made. nothing more than a trick of the light.

deeper into the Saint's of the Dying Light she forged, forcing her way through brambles. from her short time captive here, she knew where her husband slept.

blood tricked from where she had been cut by thorns and branched trying to omit her entry. washing through her fur to create red streaks down her face.

a lumping mass sounded directly towards her, and for a moment believes it to be Kynareth in twisted ill-fate. but the steps, though loud, were not those of her husband. no, but his child bounded into her path, practically at her feet.

she could tell it was his - the tail, the pelt, the tongue.

Sasha drove forward and snatched it up roughly, and turned to run.