Hideaway Strath Now I'm a thousand miles away again

Fury could prove him wrong, she could change the past and rewrite the wrongs and he could force away any anger wrought into his head. They had families now, they both had something to lose if things did not pan out. He wanted this, he needed it more than anything else, his wife shed enough tears, he would fall to his knees in shame if he could not provide his wife with a safe home; fall on the sword he so foolishly crafted. Pain rippled in his chest at the memories of seeing his wife cry, squeezing his lungs slowly, meticulously, like a vise, the burn chiseled his heart and it wept again at the sight. 

His name being called swept him back into the meeting, he glanced at Lane and then to Fury, his eyes only connecting to hers for a moment. He didn't want to stare long, he didn't wish to produce ire between the two of them, in a way he was submitting. Starting the forgiveness process but he also needed to seek forgiveness. 

His leaders began to talk more and peace became more apparent, Rye's tail twitched as he tried to contain the encroaching relief. Then Lane spoke to him, asking him about a hunt. Panic replaced the relief and he was tied up in it for a moment. "I think," He stalled. "I think it's a good idea." It was an awkward start but then he found his voice of reason, he found the rationality his father so long ago taught him. Rye breathed in deeply, he sat up straight and spoke directly to Fury. 

"Nyra— Fury, I will not sit here and pretend we do not have a violent history. I still wear the scars your pack gave to me but it wouldn't do my wife justice by letting our past get in the way of our futures. She deserves a safe home now more than ever." He hinted at her return as to not side track, hoping Fury would catch it. "Your children deserve the same. I would gladly hunt beside you, even for you, in the aims of keeping the peace." The man drew a short breath before continuing. "I hope to call you friend instead of the foe I have since called you." Although his voice was strong, nearly thunderous, sincerity wasn't missing from his words. He meant what he said, all that and then some. However trust is like glass, just because Rye aimed for peace did not mean he would let his guard down.