Emberwood [m] I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses

He needed a moment to himself.

Never before had he felt the creek was suffocating, and yet, each direction his gaze fell to seemed to remind him of somehow of Riverclan’s Sharptooth, and with lingering guilt, heartache and exhaustion, the man turned away form his proclaimed kingdom and to somewhere that held neutrality.

Fate had a strange moment when it presented a proverbial middle finger to him, and when he had come upon the serene forests of the Emberwood, never would he have thought that he would find within its depths Reverie—so close to figment of his imagination, he feared, the wisp of the girl she once was, and to the woman she had become. Doe-eyed and innocent appearance, he could not help the darkening storm of his features with the knowledge that a viper rest within her very breast—surely, his mind was playing tricks on him.

Surely, she would not dare come within such proximity to the creek? And so the Mayfair stood—the brush of the breeze ruffling his fur, his pale gold eyes cast with open weariness upon her.