But I have promises to keep

idk what this is

For a little while, as they walked, they were quiet; Tonravik did not expect him to elaborate on what dreams were, then, but she did not mind it. Who knew better than her that some things could not be explained (although she hardly had the mental dictionary). When he spoke Tonravik looked to him again, trying to wrap her mind around these words he said, to comprehend. Although Tonravik knew she had experienced this as she had no other word, she could not remember anything else but the fact that she had been running. Toward something? Away? These facts Tonravik could not bring back to herself.

As Tonravik listened to his words, she thought briefly of her own meeting with Echelon. Her ears twitched, and for herself, she deduced aloud: Your heart. Tonravik knew little of hearts, of longing for anything but to meet her ambitious goals. She knew nothing of heartache or of love. The closest thing Tonravik had come to love was Echelon, though this was a stretch in itself. For Tonravik had once even walked away from that (though with pure and honest intent, to bring in more) without a word. Tonravik knew attachment caused plenty of pain; she had seen wolves die, as Njal himself knew, and in Tartok death was a common theme. They were brilliant and adept fighters, conquerors, warriors... but even warriors lost some battles, and sometimes it cost a life. Echelon was the single wolf Tonravik cared about. Tonravik did not even humor the thought of losing her; she would never let it happen.

There was a protective edge Tonravik felt herself gaining for Njal, too, oddly. He had sacrificed himself on the principle of Tartok alone—this was her belief, even though he had not known she was Tartok initially—and this was something Tonravik found redeemable. Mistakes happened, and typically, Tartok took lives and tongues for them. It was their order of things, when one strayed, to ensure it never happen again. Njal proved to Tonravik wordlessly and in action that he would have gladly given his life for a past error.

On that alone Tonravik believed he could be considered stalwart; he could be redeemed, perhaps even by his heart. Tonravik was an unforgiving wolf, all things considered; but he had been prepared to give his life for something, and Tonravik understood abandonment was what it was. It was rare she was able to put two and two together; she was not thoughtful or intelligent, only instinctual.

But her thought process was this (of course, incorrect, but this was her belief): He had abandoned, and so he found himself unworthy. This was true. He was unworthy. His tongue ought to have been ripped from his jowls so that he be unable to betray secrets aloud... but, his heart would have him return. It was something of a mission. A personal one. Tonravik disapproved of that altogether. But it was not against her... and so she looked to him, and said stonily, If you must go, she blinks, Do not do so without a word. Therein lie his error. Hindsight of course was always twenty/twenty. Tonravik stopped, looked to the horizon, and less sharply, said to him at last: Thank you. She had not forgotten his aid, would not forget it. Her words were not personal, not meant to aggravate or provoke.