the choice

Thistle had been battling with mostly two emotions since her husband had gone on a trip of outrider capacity, without telling her. The first of course being a most righteous anger. One that burned in her guts and made her shred sticks and pieces of her home. The second was such a deep seeded worry that she got sick on quite a few occasions from it. Of all the stupid things for him to do. He had just lost an eye, an eye! And he was off cavorting with other packs to get information that he really didn't need. She was certain he had just wanted to get away from her hovering, and she was angry all over again. He would have hell to pay when he got home, maybe, probably.

She heard his howl and lifted her gaze from the ground and the prey trail she had been following. With a muted curse she took off towards the sound and got there skidding to a stop an staring at him with obvious displeasure. You foolish, stubborn, insufferable, silly, taxing, and absolutely aggravating man! How could you do that? Huh! Well, how could you? You could have died do you know that? DIed and where would that leave me besides spitting poison at your name! I mean honestly Ragnar by all the gods in the heavens what were you thinking leaving like that with a severe injury? So how many people ran away from you in fear? Huh did you gather any information or did they all run willy nilly like crazy things, when they saw you with your eye gone dripping mucous and blood and sinew and muscle and all those nerves exposed? HMMM! I missed you and I love you but you are going to put me in an early grave you are!

With a frown she continued forward and studied his eye. Looking at him carefully, standing near his shoulder, she could have reached out and touched him if she wanted, but at the moment she was furious and worried, so it was not on her mind to do so. She just wanted to make sure there was no infection or anything.