Qeya River četiri

hurt in his eyes, hurt in her own now brewing. did he think she might turn tail because of this? she fretted and worried but her plan was not to uproot herself. she had promised herself as warrior, guardian, to this place. she would be no guardian worth her weight if she exiled herself when tough times appeared.

no. her one word response was firm and she sought to shove herself into his side for assurance. an exchange of scents, of strength.

we are still pack, we are bonded.

you think i would leave? i cannot do that to you, to river. a soft tsk of her tongue against her teeth.