Swiftcurrent Creek La Bayadere

Akavir practically lived on the borders these days—the trace of his mate growing fainter with each passing day, and his concern turning to a stiff resolve. He had to believe she was okay—and that she would come home.

That no matter their fight, she wouldn’t just up and run off.

So when he scented Cygnet along the border lengths, he quickened his pace—Arric’s concerns coming to the forefront of his mind. A task—something to maintain his own sanity as he tried to remain busy.

Pale eyes fell upon the growing youth as she wove around a tree, but it was the distant figure of a stranger against pure white snow that caught his attention—and he slowed significantly, taking the opportunity to not announce his presence and watch—

—waiting to see what their local hellion would do, and hoping she didn’t suck too much when she was at the front of the potential welcome wagon.