Dragoncrest Cliffs foxglove through the clearcut

Gunnar was going on the memory of former packs. Most leaders didn't like females to arrive with children, unless they were sired by their own packmates, and with express permission. He could distinctly remember his father threatening to kill such things before.

Gunnar did not have any romantic intentions, because Sanja didn't. But it seemed to him that that maybe a reason everyone thought. He simply wanted to help someone in trouble. And he was torn. He absolutely felt like he was a heel. A cur. The worst of anything, and the silence lengthened and grew. And he felt his heart breaking, piece by piece, yet again.

Gunnar studied Meerkat, but he said nothing. He lay his head to his paws and waited. He would wait all day for her. Whether it was rage or bile, or hurt and saccharine, he wasn't sure, but he did know he was going to get a storm of something. Thank the gods, more so Frigga and Freya for his mother's spitfire moods. He was used to all of the above.