Wapun Meadow seek the light,

early mornings were now often spent on patrol. it kept him busy, focused. following unfamiliar scents, perhaps scaring off the occasional band of coyotes. and while on these treks, he'd have time to think. to hope. 

rala was on his mind more often than not. not so much as burden, though a distraction. a welcome one. whenever he'd crawl out of the den they'd built him together, oaken eyes would sweep, searching for her. admiring her as she slept, or just checking in. 

an obligation. although she wasn't his, that wouldn't stop him from the duty he now felt necessary to be beside her, to ensure she's safe. a protectiveness had stemmed, deep and primal. he hoped to show her that he could be a good man, be the man she deserved. even if sometimes, he didn't believe it himself. 

he wouldn't linger on the wrongs he's done, not when that melodic howl of her pierces through the cold wind. calling for him. and he comes when he's called; he always would, for her. 

dolce finds her at the edge of the meadow, all pretty and soft-like in the sun. still a vision; a snow kissed queen, surveying her kingdom. he announces himself with a chuff, before he's striding up to her side, gently nosing her shoulder. 

he would have to be a fool, not to notice the way tvar's scent no longer lingers. and while it fills him with selfish satisfaction, he's also noticed her sorrow. the way she wouldn't smile as vividly as usual, the way her voice was distant, quieter. 

while the decision she was to make may have been in his favor, it was with her heavy heart. and subsequently his; he wouldn't mourn for his rival, but for her. he wouldn't mention the man's name; he'd simply be there for her, the best way he knew how. 

"you called, darlin'?" he rumbled, nose skimming from her shoulder to her nape.