Emberwood Remember when you said you loved me?

I was gonna wait on this <3 but then decided might as well kick it off and see what happens!! This can be loose in the timeline, no rush

Fennec had hoped to have the pack settled before this happened, but her growing restlessness had turned that morning into something unmistakeable. And, when she woke up alone (as was always the case), she was on her feet and looking for @Bronco before she even realized what she was doing.

She'd been careful. She'd recognized his boundaries, drawn the lines, honored them to the best of her ability... and she was miserable. She hadn't been willing to admit it, not even to herself, but with the onset of the season it was too starkly clear to ignore. Fennec needed more than this and she needed to ask for it.

The change in her wasn't the only thing driving her, but it had stripped away her remaining willpower and shifted the tide. She wanted children and she wanted him. Every time they slept, nearby but never together, every time they sat with space between, every time he failed to reach out, every time she wanted to but couldn't. Suddenly she couldn't take it anymore.

She followed his trail and wound her way carefully through the trees, resolute despite the speed at which her heart was thudding in her chest.

Routine had served to bring Bronco peace, but with that serenity he’d failed to make any attempts to heal. He felt comfortable, satisfied even, with how things were. Any anxieties he’d had about his relationship with Fennec had melted away once it had become less physical

In true Bronco fashion, he hadn’t noticed her growing restlessness. It wasn’t until it was too late for him to not notice that it hit him, and he realized in a mild panic that her scent was drawing nearer. Routine had been a dead giveaway- every day, this time of day, he was typically mid-patrol along this same section of forest. 

He froze for a moment, and scanned the area. He couldn’t see her yet. A year ago he would have overcome any obstacle to get to her but now part of him yearned to have a mountain suddenly sprout up between them so he had an easy reason to not simply run to her. 

Unable to decide what to do, he sought solace in what few minutes he could as he continued to travel along the borders though his mind raced. Maybe if he just…

He looked around again. Still no sign of her. And it wasn’t like she’d see, anyway, if she was within view. He fidgeted for a second, struggling to give himself the motivation he needed- and then whacked his own muzzle as hard as he could against an overhanging branch. 

He squinted his eyes and staggered for a second, holding his breath so he didn’t cry out. He wasn’t sure if he’d broken his nose, but it began to throb with pain and began to bleed more profusely than he’d expected it to, pattering little red splotches of blood down the front of his chest and onto the ground like little drops of red rain. It hurt like hell, but he breathed a sigh of relief. 

He couldn’t smell a thing. 

He changed his path and began heading back down the way he’d come. He wouldn’t need to avoid her if he could simply not register that she was in heat. And she was the first wolf he’d naturally want to look for, after his stupid stumble, to help him fix his nose. So once he caught sight of her, he woofed softly, to catch her attention. 

”Hey Fedd,” he called out. He was almost ashamed of how strange he sounded, now that he couldn’t breathe out his nose without spraying blood everywhere. His tail wagged from side to side slowly, held low- a sign of guilt. How stupid he’d been, accidentally bashing his face against a stupid branch like that. ”I thick I foud a haunted tree for you to exorcize,” He said ruefully. ”Just be ward- it packs a punch.” Typical, Bronco humour. Everything was normal. This was all fine.

She smelled the blood first, so knew something was off. At first she was concerned, but when she caught up to him, that feeling shifted to a myriad of others as he spoke. Irritation. Hurt. Inadequacy. It was like she was invisible to him. Still.

Friends. That's all they were.

Her ears went back, and she looked away. Yeah. There was no humor in her response. She had to help him, sure, but she didn't have to like it. She wanted to be angry, but couldn't summon it. She just felt... rejected. Again.

Just like she'd felt, over and over and over again, countless times. Ever since he'd come back.

This isn't going to change, is it? She'd been turning to find something to help, but turned back abruptly instead. There was a note of finality in it, hopeless acceptance. There's not anything I can do to fix this. Is there. It wasn't a question.

He hadn't even acknowledged it. She didn't know what she had been expecting... but somehow, it wasn't that.

Her first reaction seemed to be dismay, rather than concern, which was a bit off-putting. He’d expected her to chide him, make a remark about spirits or ghosts or hexes or something, and then set about helping him stop this profuse nosebleed. Instead, she looked as though she was very much tired of it all, and that hurt. 

He moped for a second, but lifted his head when she turned back suddenly. Her question surprised him, and he felt instantly guilty for having hurt himself. He probably should have known that by now, Fennec was likely very tired of taking care of him. It was one injury after another, after another. Cougar fights, den cave-ins, being held hostage by a group of psychopaths…She’d never really seemed to mind too much before but maybe she’d been hiding this resentment. 

”I bean, I hobe so? I” But before he could go on much, she made a comment that made him balk. ”Fix it? ‘Course you cad, Id’s just a bad nosebleed.” He assured her. Part of him was concerned maybe he’d gone a bit too far and had perhaps screwed up his nasal cavity and wouldn’t that just be comeuppance if he couldn’t track prey anymore because of this. 

”I’b Sorry, I dow I’b just…a walking death bagnet….Magnet…It was just a stubid bistake, Fedd. But…Baybe you’re right, I….gotta be more careful, so things…Y’dow so I can kind of survive, be around’ for a while, y’dow.” He exhaled and coughed, surprising himself when a spray of blood flecks covered his paws. It’d been trickling down the back of his throat. ”I cadt even bread trough by dose right Dow. An I subbosed to tip by head down or back to get the blood out?” He fed her that little detail, hoping she might understand why he wasn’t acknowledging the elephant in the room. He couldn’t smell a damn thing.

It was starting to feel to Fennec like every time she wanted to talk about something significant, some crisis happened. It wasn't Bronco's fault, and she knew she shouldn't take it out on him, but knowing that didn't stop her emotions from running with it. She was crushed.

Down. She said, not bothering to respond to any of the rest of it. She didn't know how to right now. He was so off the mark on what she was referencing, she was starting to realize that he actually didn't see the problem. She'd assumed it would get better because she assumed he would want it to get better. But maybe that assumption was wrong.

She left and came back a few moments later with as big a patch of moss she could find. Hold that to it. She set it down, then took a step back. She assumed he didn't want her to help.

And you're wrong. That wasn't it. I don't like it when you hurt yourself, but I know it isn't on purpose. She couldn't summon any anger. It had been too long, and she'd been silently sitting on this to the point that it had worn her out on it. I'm miserable, Bronco. I'm trying. I am really fucking trying. But I feel like you don't trust me, all the time. I can't even touch my own mate. And it makes me wonder why we are even together, when all we are is friends. It was a mistake, anyway, forcing it. I shouldn't have done it.

Her throat caught. She had taken advantage of the fact that he probably couldn't respond with his nose shoved in a bunch of moss, but now she fell silent.

Maybe he wouldn't want to address it anyway. Maybe he was fine as friends. Maybe that's what he'd really wanted all along. Maybe this was all just his way of getting out of it all. So many theories, none of them particularly insightful, but all of them haunting her these past months. She had slowly come to the conclusion that she might never get what she needed from him. The need that coursed in her blood wasn't new, but the season made it strong enough that she couldn't ignore it anymore.

At least she'd finally said it.

Keep holding that until the bleeding stops. she added, hopefully to cut off any response. She didn't need him bleeding out just to answer. He sounded awful.

Down definitely felt better. He didn’t tell like the feeling of warm blood trickling down his throat, so he tipped his head forward to allow it to drip freely into the ground, pattering softly against the earth. 

She was still distant when she came back with moss. He looked up, not sure exactly where he was supposed to hold the moss or how, so he lay down and simply shoved his nose down into it. He couldn’t even smell how earthy it should have smelled. He had to leave his mouth propped open slightly so he could breathe. 

He watched her features as she spoke, gazing up at her from the ground, eyebrows furrowed in concern. She suspected nothing- and she wouldn’t have had any reason to think he would have done this intentionally. Still, he hated knowing she got stressed out when he got hurt. ”I ab sorry, Fedd.” He said. He didn’t figure there was much more to it, until she continued.

He lifted his head, and blood dribbled down his chin. Miserable? He shouldn’t have been surprised. He buried his nose back into the moss, still breathing softly through his mouth, his breath warming his chest where his heart clenched in pain. He was letting her down. And he’d known, when she’d pinned him, that it wasn’t the right way to step into a relationship. Perhaps, though, he’d been too busy patrolling and hunting to notice that what seemed to work for him was actually making her miserable. 

And he hadn’t really noticed, either, and he felt awful about that. ”Fedd….I’ve so sorry. I….I didn’d…I didn’d see what I should’ve seed. I can’t tell you how much it’s meant to me to have…A bid of….Space. I needed tibe to just…I think, to just decombress from everyding happened to be. And…I’m feeling…Better. But now, you’re not, so….Baybe Dow, we…We start doing wad we need to, to make things work for you.”

Bronco's words were hard to understand, but fortunately Fennec was pretty skilled at listening. Even with that, she thought she hadn't heard correctly. She'd been silently sucking it up for months now and struggling with the feelings of isolation it brought on, and for what? Now that it was finally out there, Bronco immediately validated it. Of course he did - but she hadn't thought he would. She'd been expecting the worst this entire time.

If you still need space, or if anything about this isn't what you want, we can end it. It didn't start right anyway. I don't want to force you into something you don't want. I just need more than this. She should have brought this up sooner. If she had, maybe they could have worked this out. Even if he said this was exactly what he wanted, Fennec knew better than to expect change to come within a week.

I don't need kids this year. Fuck you for making me want them, though. Her lip twitched up in a small, sardonic smile. Her instincts were screaming at her otherwise, but Fennec knew she wasn't like her mom. Single motherhood had sucked. We can work on it, if you want. But we don't have to.

It hurt to feel like he didn't trust her, but the river went both ways, didn't it? She hadn't trusted him to take this well and definitely didn't trust him to actually tell her what he wanted. It was fucked up, actually.

She was offering him a way out, but he doubted it’d be that simple. And he doubted she really meant it. It was wasn’t what he’d wanted; space and time to cope and heal was something very different than needing to be out of a relationship. But he couldn’t have expected Fennec to understand that the space between them hadn’t been intended as an emotional barrier. 

”I told you you shoulda let me to a prober proposal,” He chided coyly. He’d wanted a traditional relationship, after all. The perfect timing, the perfect setting…Storybook. Fairytale. 

She mentioned needing more and he knew she meant she wanted to be closer. Their relationship had fallen very platonic in the time they’d spent establishing their pack, while he found his way back onto his own feet again. He didn’t live in fear that he’d be found again, and taken away. So, perhaps, now it was time to reconcile the bits of their relationship that had been put on hold. 

She mentioned kids…And he got the distinct impression that again, while she offered him a way out, it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted more kids. He had missed the majority of Killdeer’s youth…And perhaps he mourned that missed experience. He thought quietly for a moment. 

He lifted his muzzle up a bit, and noticed that the bleeding had slowed enough that it’s started to congeal. He gently rubbed some of it off his muzzle and nose, and waited for a moment to see if it would bleed again, but it seemed to have stopped. Still, his nose ached, and was very plugged. He could see the lump on the bridge of his muzzle if he crossed his eyes a bit. 

He sat up and somewhat stiffly got to his feet. He shook some of the dirt of his pelt that had stuck to him while he’d been lying down, and looked at her for a moment. 

By the way she so readily offered to let him get out of everything, he had to wonder what it was she really wanted. And if it was him, of all the wolves in the world, that she’d choose above all others or if he was merely a choice based out of convenience. ”You sdill want me, after all of this?” He asked.

Despite the slightly charged nature of the choice she'd given him, Fennec felt weirdly at peace with it. The instance she did it, she knew she should have done it a long time ago. She kind of had, maybe, but not like this. Maybe they'd both needed the space - all she had perceived about it was the way she'd felt, but without realizing it, it had changed her too.

Say the word, we can break up and start over. She replied, her smirk growing a bit. But it wasn't a joke. Seriously. I mean it. She wasn't just offering him a chance to break things off. She was offering him a reset because she'd fucked up. And while she didn't know how to apologize for it, not correctly at least, she knew she had to lay it out on the table now to believe this was actually what he wanted.

I've never done anything that I didn't want to do. Regardless of who it fucked over. You know that. That was kind of the entire problem, wasn't it? It wasn't hard for her. If he had said this was how he wanted it, that they couldn't have more, then she'd have broken it off herself. As soon as she had that answer, she'd have known that this relationship couldn't give her what she needed from it - now that she knew she did need it.

I wanted it then. I still want it now. It doesn't even have to be perfect. It just has to be worth it for both of us. Right now it didn't really feel worth it for either; maybe Bronco felt differently. Maybe he didn't. Either way, it was his choice.

Her smile fell short of its intended mark. Rather than being playful, it felt reptilian; cold-blooded. Not because of her tone of voice or the expression on her face, but because for the third time in less than a minute, she had offered him a way out. He studied her for a moment, evaluating her as well as he could. He thought he knew her well enough to be able to judge what her true desires were- but at the moment, he felt himself grasping at loose ends. 

He knew her to be remorseless, and it was one of the things about her that bothered him. At times like this, he felt himself thinking she was apathetic, unapologetic for her mistakes. And while he knew she did, in fact, suffer when those mistakes occurred, she always seemed to come out of every situation a bit tougher. Her emotional scar tissue seemed to be stronger than the flesh it replaced. And for Bronco, who carried his experiences forward like dry kindling simply waiting to be struck into a flame again, it was unnerving. 

He’d learned that it was best to be calm, but direct. Not his forté, of course, as he tended to be more avoidant than anything, especially recently. But this…He felt there was subtext that needed to be ironed out. 

”Fedd…You’ve offered three times now for us to break up, if I want to. It’s…Really hard for me to know what you want, an’ it’s really hard for be to believe that you wanna be with be if you keep tryin’ to tell me it’s OK with you if we break up.” He said. ”I know you want more…Touch, from be. And I’ve not saying I can’t or I won’t. I just…And I dow it’s beed hard for you to not have that, and I’m sorry.” While he’d never offered her a suitable explanation, it still seemed less painful for him to hide his reasons, and suffer the consequences of her not understating why he needed space, than to tell her. He sighed.

”It doesn’t have to be perfect. But if it doesn’t absolutely break your heart to suggest we split, then…I dunno.”

Her smile fell short of its intended mark. Rather than being playful, it felt reptilian; cold-blooded. Not because of her tone of voice or the expression on her face, but because for the third time in less than a minute, she had offered him a way out. He studied her for a moment, evaluating her as well as he could. He thought he knew her well enough to be able to judge what her true desires were- but at the moment, he felt himself grasping at loose ends. 

He knew her to be remorseless, and it was one of the things about her that bothered him. At times like this, he felt himself thinking she was apathetic, unapologetic for her mistakes. And while he knew she did, in fact, suffer when those mistakes occurred, she always seemed to come out of every situation a bit tougher. Her emotional scar tissue seemed to be stronger than the flesh it replaced. And for Bronco, who carried his experiences forward like dry kindling simply waiting to be struck into a flame again, it was unnerving. 

He’d learned that it was best to be calm, but direct. Not his forté, of course, as he tended to be more avoidant than anything, especially recently. But this…He felt there was subtext that needed to be ironed out. 

”Fedd…You’ve offered three times now for us to break up, if I want to. It’s…Really hard for me to know what you want, an’ it’s really hard for be to believe that you wanna be with be if you keep tryin’ to tell me it’s OK with you if we break up.” He said. ”I know you want more…Touch, from be. And I’ve not saying I can’t or I won’t. I just…And I dow it’s beed hard for you to not have that, and I’m sorry.” While he’d never offered her a suitable explanation, it still seemed less painful for him to hide his reasons, and suffer the consequences of her not understating why he needed space, than to tell her. He sighed.

”It doesn’t have to be perfect. But if it doesn’t absolutely break your heart to suggest we split, then…I dunno.”

Fuck, how did she respond to this one? She didn't know. She didn't know how to describe the place she was in, how she felt about them, or even herself. When she thought about him leaving her, she no longer felt panic... because it had kind of felt like he left already. They'd never really started.

Just because it won't break me doesn't mean it won't break my heart. Fennec said, finally, though she was tempted at this point to sidestep it. He wasn't understanding. I fucked up. I made this happen. And now I'll never know if it's real. So yeah, I'm offering to let you out. Because when we became mates, I didn't, and if you'd done that to me I'd probably hate you for it. Hate was a strong word, but he had to resent her. Right?

I do need more. And if we can't get there, then yeah, maybe we'll have no choice. But as long as there's a chance to get back there... She remembered, with an ache, how easy it had been in Firefly Glen. She cut off, and instinctually she looked down, though she had no way of knowing if he was even looking at her. The memory was a gut punch.

Something was gone. She couldn't put it in words, but she felt it's loss and it hurt with the ache of an old scar. It didn't bother her if Bronco changed. What bothered her was the way it felt he'd changed towards her. Like she was standing on the outside of a wall, scrabbling to get in.

Do you still want me, after all of this? Honestly?

She’d always been made of something different. She’d run away from him before, and he’d hated it. Then, she’d given him an ultimatum about being wedded; now, it felt like she was trying to make him be the one to run away. 

He wished she could simply thaw and tell him that she’d be heartbroken. He wanted someone who loved him enough that the thought of being separated felt wrong. He sighed.

”I think I can give you what you need from a relationship.” He said. ”But I’m not…Sure if I’m going to be able to get what I need.” He admitted.

She'd been preparing for this. Expecting it, even. But it hurt more than she thought to hear him actually say the words out loud.

I figured. That sounded cold. She could hear it even as she said it, but for a moment, she didn't have any more words. Then, it was like she couldn't stop. Everything just came out.

When I tried to talk to you about this before, you hurt yourself. And ever since then, the more I stay away, the better you are. I know I'm not good for you. It isn't all that fucking hard. But I couldn't let it go. I kept thinking that maybe, eventually, you'd want more. But you never did.

She tried to keep her voice even, but then she couldn't. Even when the tears came, Fennec didn't stop. How fucked up is it to want more from you when all it does is hurt you? But I keep doing it. I hate that I can't help, that there's nothing I can do to make things better except leave, because I don't want to leave. But I have to because it's the only fucking thing I can that works. I don't work.. I don't know why that changed. But no matter how I want you back, I know I can't force you to trust me. I can't force you to love me.

This wasn't a Hail Mary. She didn't want him to back up or to stick with her just because he knew that was what she wanted. She had wanted him to stand up for himself for once and tell her, straight, what he wanted. And he had.

You deserve more than this. So do I. She would have tried. But she couldn't if he didn't tell her what she was doing wrong. Even worse, if what she was doing wrong was herself.

He could remember what it was like when things worked. Before they’d been a couple, when they’d spent time side by side, when he’d learned how much she hated being left behind. Fennec did have qualities that he found endearing to the point of being addictive. Those moments were impossible to forget; but he felt them drift further from his present mind when she spoke.

It wasn’t likely her intention, but the things she was saying made him feel even worse about what had happened. She didn’t know the whole story, and maybe if she did, she wouldn’t be saying what felt like criticism, now. He knew she hated it when he needed space, he he felt like shit for making her feel that way. But somehow, taking the space he needed was the only way to heal. And it was so much less painful to push her away than it had been for him to simply give in and let her get close. 

She was emotional now, but he wasn’t about to give in and let her guilt him into telling her that she was the victim. He’d needed a sacrifice from her, in order to recover from her trauma. Apparently, that sacrifice had been too much for her to make.

”Look. I’b sorry this has beed so hard on you. But I needed space. I needed you to give that to be so that I could get better. You have do idea how badly I was hurt, Fedd. It just seems like you have no, fucking idea how badly I was hurt. I just needed some fucking tibe so that y’know what, the next tibe you reach out to touch me, I don’t ibbediately just….Go back to that place, and picture all that again, and wanna die again. That’s why I needed space. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you. I just…I needed those flashbacks to go away. I couldn’t let that be what I felt when you touched me so I…Needed you to not touch me for a while.” He said. The breath he drew next was shaky. ”I just felt I had to put our relationship somewhere safe…Out of reach, so it couldn’t be…Corrupted by those memories. An’ you’re right, we both deserve better than this. But this…This isn’t how it’s always gonna be.”

She could tell immediately from his words that he felt attacked. She recoiled involuntarily. Nothing she had said was meant to sound accusing towards him. She knew that she was the problem. She was the one who wanted things he couldn't give.

I know that. I can't understand because you haven't told me. And maybe I should be able to, but I can't. I can't just read your mind, and for once, I can't just lie and pretend otherwise. If that's what you need, I can't give it to you. She cut off, took a breath. She wasn't angry but she was upset - this hurt.

I'm trying Bronco. That's why I'm not blaming you. I'm trying so damn hard to understand why you need space, but I can't see this getting better when, from where I'm standing, you're legitimately happier when I'm not around. Even if it isn't your fault, don't you see how that feels from where I'm standing?

If it's memories, I wish you'd told me that sooner. Why didn't you? She'd known he needed space to work on his own things, and it turns out he had been cutting her out on purpose. It was complicated, hearing that and knowing he'd kept it to himself all of this time.

He could feel her frustration, and it didn’t sit well with him. He realized too late that what he wanted was pity, and she certainly wasn’t giving him that. He fumed silently when yet again, he felt he was being blamed for their problems because he hadn’t told her what had happened. How could she not understand that it was too painful to say out loud? 

He was quiet as she continued and he felt his heart sink. It felt like she wasn’t getting the point of what he’d been trying to say. It felt like she was taking everything personally, when he felt the emotional burden was his to bear, not hers. 

But her question was valid enough. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say to anything else she’d said, as it felt like they were just beating a dead horse. He had issues. His issues were causing issues for her, but it was impossible for him to simply set his trauma aside so Fennec could get all the snuggles and attention she wanted so badly. 

”I can’t…Say what happened. It’s…” Be stiffened and his throat clenched. He gritted his teeth together until they made an ugly sound in his skull. ”And if you knew, you’d…Wanna kill’em. But they’d…They’d get you too, Fedd. You don’t believe me I dow, but…I need you to believe me. They…dow how to break wolves.” He said. He fully expected her to be ruffled. She sometimes seemed to carry on as if she was invincible. She feared so little, and it was a major red flag, to him. Without knowing that kind of profound fear, he didn’t think she could ever understand him.

”You used to look up to Niamh so much. But it never seebed to bother you that she hurt me.” He admitted. ”…So even if I did tell you what they did…I have no way to know that you’d actually…Understand why I feel the way  I do.”

She was quiet for a moment after he finished. It had never occurred to her that he would want her to be bothered for his sake when it came to his mother... and more and more, the cracks between the wolf she'd built him up to be in her head, and the wolf who was speaking to her, began to define themselves. Things like that, the things that bothered him. Maybe they'd been there all along and, unlike her, he just never spoke them aloud. And maybe the reason all of their problems had fallen on her shoulders in the past was because at least she had been honest.

She felt a sinking feeling with the realization of this possibility. I'd kill them tomorrow if I knew where to find them. I've tried before. She finally stated plainly, an edge to the statement that wasn't directed at him. If he thought she didn't have enough reason, he was wrong. She couldn't imagine wanting their blood spilled more than she already did. They'd taken him away from her, from Killdeer, and sent him back nearly unrecognizable. She hated them like she'd never hated anything before and likely ever would again.

It's yours to tell. But if you don't respect me enough to make that decision myself, or to even see if I can understand, then I think we really are better off finished. That isn't a partnership. At least not the kind I need. Despite the harsh honesty of the words, there was no malice behind them. Mostly she was tired and a little beyond sorrow. She felt empty, a little numb.

She'd been so wrong about him. Her image of Bronco had always been warmth, gentle honesty, care. How many things had he hid from her along the way? How many times had she upset him and he just silently taken it?

She didn't want to think about this anymore.

I'm not your responsibility Bronco. I never felt like you were mine, and I won't change that. I'm sorry. She could feel her emotional control starting to fracture again, but she stood stock still while she waited for any response. She didn't place too much hope in him arguing with her. When had he ever been the one to start a fight?

Again, Fennec was as unyielding and unbending as as old Oak tree. She confirmed what he’d thought she’d feel, and he shook his head. He knew what they’d do to her. Her arrogance would make her a toy for them. It didn’t matter anymore, though. She seemed not to believe or care how fearful he said they were, or how horrifying his experience had been. 

”You’re not eved hearing be,” he interjected, but she continued. Was she trying to guilt him into talking about what had happened? Sure seemed like it. He stood up. 

”You’re the most selfish creature I know, Feddec.” He said in a low, hurt voice. ”You rud away whed things are tough an’ don’t even think how bunch you’re hurting anyone else, ad I just… welcombed you back every tibe. Or I went off an’ found you myself. Did I roast you for it? No. Baybe I should’ve, ‘cause it’s blatantly clear dow that you both have no fucking clue how your actions hurt others, and even when you do know, you don’t care. You but your needs above anyone else’s, and when someone else has a hard time, your idly concern is how bunch of an idconvenience Id is for you.” He said. 

It felt good to call her out, though he knew she’d likely just brush it all off, the way she did sometimes. ”Good luck with the Emberwood, Witch. It’s yours. I’m out.”

She hadn't run away since Firefly Glen, and he was still weaponizing that against her. She'd waited for him, with Killdeer, the entire time he was gone. She'd spent the last five months tiptoeing around him, wondering if he hated her, while he didn't say a fucking word. And she was selfish?!

Fennec's ears pinned back and her expression turned cold. Fine then. She hadn't meant for this to turn ugly. She would have tried to make it work, to let him have a place next to him as a friend at the very least. But apparently even that was too fucking much to ask of him.

If that's really what you think of me, you should have just said that. Fine. Go find someone who can read your fucking mind. Good luck. She wouldn't drive him off. If he wanted to be a coward, he could leave himself.

She was done here. Any guilt she had about walking away disappeared with those words, and without another she turned to walk away. It was what he said she did, wasn't it? So why not meet expectations.

She was livid. For once, witch rang in her ears like an insult, and tears began to prick at her vision once more. Fuck him. She was tired of being told she didn't matter because for some reason, men couldn't fucking care to loop her in on their trauma. She was done with all of it.

She took his accusations about as well as he could have expected. Nobody liked being called selfish, but he felt he’s been overdue in pointing that out. Fennec got what she wanted, and when something else happened, she felt no regrets. There was something about that mindset that rattled him. 

He sighed softly, and watched her go. He looked around, to the trees and the land he’d hoped to call home, and realized that he had to get on the move again. He’d surrendered the Emberwood to her, so as far as he was concerned, it was hers, now. 

To their collected followers, he felt they were owed a bit of an explanation. With a voice low and calm, he bowled out for their packmates to hear. 

”Fennec is the leader of the Emberwood now. I am stepping down and…Leaving. I wish all of you, all of the best.” His voice audibly faltered. His nose began to bleed again, as some air had tried to escape through his blocked nasal cavity. 

Head low and heart heavy, he retreated toward the Norther borders, for the next stage in his journey. 

<3 <3 <3 @ingrid @figment @blueberry