Ouroboros Spine xlvvi. ringing in my head, when you broke my chest

With tufts of fur slightly matted and dull from the stress of childbirth, Lótë appeared not as she existed in his memories, save for the purest evergreen of her gaze and the vibrant gleam that made them shine. She looked upon him without anger, much to his relief, but her concern was tangible. No doubt she had suffered sleepless nights because of his absence, and while he boasted wounds that healed, he could see that she too was in pain.

His wounds, however, were of the flesh and would heal with time. He nodded in response, regarding her with quiet reverence. "An unexpected run-in with a volley of criminals." He said softly. He didn't see fit to boast about the fact that he had tricked them, and had taken out three of their packmates in order to get away as he felt violence was a last resort, nothing to be flaunted. His gaze lowered, and softened. "I am sorry...This must have been very challenging for you."