Wapun Meadow anywhere else is hollow

his heart tells him he shouldn't trust her, he shouldn't trust this, poisoning him with creeping suspicion and malice, and yet—his mind tells him reason. logic. tvar is hesitant to step down from the ledge he'd placed himself on, but he does all the same.

he wouldn't make it a habit of harassing women.

so, with a suspicious narrow of eyes that rake over her, he clicks his teeth in verbal warning. then leave. he orders, a sharp command followed by the angry jerk of his head behind her. tell your companion what you found. another command.

tvar has his suspicions, but he won't voice them. won't let them loiter in his mind. but he thinks faintly of the bastard who had tried to approach his mate during her heat, and that only further ignites anger in his chest. anger that he stamps down now.

another growl. go.

he wouldn't move yet, content to watch her leave; make sure she left for good. once she went, he'd scour the meadow for any signs of her companion on the chance she lied and he had to root out any loiterers.