Jade Fern Grove chafa

the title tho, lmaooo

It wasn’t a call he expected.

There was a pause in his work—a blink. He looked to the horizon, his brows knit together in consideration, one paw hovering over the small weed that had only just sprouted in the garden of his ex-wife.

He had left the decision up to Arlette on what they were to do with it—and he could curse himself out for caring that Eshe’s hard work was beginning to show a lack of interest… at least while the creek wolves assembled themselves among other priorities.

He was coated in grime. Had it been one year ago from this time, he would have cared more—he would have wanted to be clean for the woman he had heart achingly fallen for. He wouldn’t have wanted to push dirt into the pale silver of her fur—marring it as he took her beneath him.

Now, her voice only elicited a sudden sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Partially tempted to send Arric to see what was so concerning to the Sharpfang of Riverclan, he considered it a moment. And then, with a chuff, he withdrew from his task—at least taking the time to brush some of the dirt from the inkjet of his fur before setting out to see what the woman he had assumed gone from his life forever could possibly want.

The sheen of sweat remained upon him even after his excursion. His pale champagne eyes cast warily upon the silver of her form—a form he had worshipped many a time.

His expression, though, remained unreadable as he stepped closer, blinking down to her—ignoring the pang in his chest at the missing limb.

“You rang?” It was sarcasm that came to the forefront—and he would be completely unapologetic about it, as he studied the woman who had become a stranger to him.