Duskfire Glacier deep down, you hide a reason for shame

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— dark shadows. they clung heavily to his mind now. he still burned—with something terrible, something wrathful he hadn’t felt before.
and failure. it was the most prevalent.
but to sheathe that failure, he had taken to drowning himself in duty. duty wherever he might find it, and wherever it might have him. now, he carries hide in his jaws.
dried upon a broad stone free of the snowmelt and ice, stretched and tended to by him. belonging to a fox he had slain; the fur glittering a pale, beautiful white sheen.
her voice was enough to steal his breath. for more reasons than just the most simple: he feared for so long she wouldn’t make it and it would be his fault. blackfell lowers his head and dips into the wideness of their bleak den, finding her with held breath and reverent eyes that avoid her gaze.
he drapes the fur amongst her raven shoulders and then brings his nose to kiss upon her forehead in silence; without words.