Blackbeak Bluff with all these memories bittersweet

Grimnismal had changed her. The series of unfortunate events that lead to the end of her time among their hierarchy left her wounded. From the heat that drove her into Lycaon's embrace to the needless slaughter of her litter at her own fangs, Nyx had gradually deteriorated along with each poor decision she made unil there was nothing left to hold her up. Never before would the golden Ostrega have leaned on another to weep but even after all this time and the distance between them, her trust in Dirge had failed to dissipate.

He soothed her, a temporary remedy that shooed her many woes from the forefront of her mind, and grotted her teeth against the kindness of his words. Fleetingly, she thought sadly of her fondness for Ingram, who'd never failed to cheer her up with his dark sense of humour - he'd always reminded her fondly of Dirge. "I always hoped you would," came her trembling response as she withdrew, backing up carefully to lift her slim muzzle and look up at the warmth that lit up his features.

She smiled right back at him, though the gesture was quick to melt away. It felt criminal to even think about being happy when she'd killed her own pups the weeks prior, and so she averted her stare to look guiltily down at her paws. "I tried to look for you and Saor, but Winter came and I..." she swallowed. "I don't deserve this, Dirge. I don't deserve you."