Honeyed Pasture if i leave everything but my bones behind

backdated to 05/01 early af morning

Regret had been in the young Mayfair's vocabulary for some time already— perhaps not at this level, though. Some part of him knew he would find his family again; that regret did not sting as deeply as something he knew was irreversible. Whatever he had done to Ava— or was it with Ava? She had seemed receptive, but hadn't he been the one doing the—
Cortland sucked in a breath, suddenly nauseous, and paused; he had been wandering quite aimlessly through the field, content to lose himself among the tall grass. Now, his head was spinning inexplicably. He couldn't stop thinking about— it. That. Ava's scent was still heavy on his pelt, but the fading heat-smell no longer caused warmth in his belly. Instead, his stomach churned more violently each time he was reminded of the hours before. This was irreversible.
His vision blurred quite suddenly, and dread filled him. Oh— what was happening? Had Ava made him sick? Cortland was breathing hard now, chest icy and aching with the effort. Whatever they had done was wrong, it must have been— and now he was certain he would die for it. It was his punishment. He lowered himself to the ground, trembling almost imperceptibly. This was what he deserved, surely, for doing something so filthy.