Whitebark Stream It's deciding where to die and deciding where to fight

His listened intently to every sound around him, waiting to hear her footsteps approaching; it took a while, but eventually he heard her. A few more long minutes passed before he finally saw her, and he immediately felt even worse. She should be resting, not meeting him here and getting upset. The anger rolling off her gaze as it bore into him seared his soul; he hated that he had done something to make her look at him that way. Her body language shifted from angry to aggressive and dominant, a snarl leaving her throat before her one word question that felt like sword in his gut. His jaw tightened and his own ears flattened. For a moment, he looked away, unable to bear the weight of her condemnation. But he deserved everything she dealt him, even if it was her teeth. Finally he lifted his gaze, his expression pleading. Grezig, he whispered. I'm so sorry. I've been so messed up for so long. I—I thought you guys would be better without me. He shook his head and looked away. It had been too late by the time he realized that leaving them now was hurting them too; he had done what he had tried to prevent—failed them. If only she would let him make it up to her. I'm an idiot. An idiot for thinking leaving was the answer. I know I have no right to ask, but I want to be here with you and our children. He swallowed and risked one small step towards her. I'll do anything, he vowed. I want nothing more than to be apart your lives. He released a heavy breath. Please, he begged.