Swiftcurrent Creek people say we shouldn't be together

Durnehviir's feelings toward Aria had never been as certain as they were now. From her initial jealousy in the early stages of courting with Constantine, the dragoness had felt some quiet guilt for her immediate dislike of the January dove. For a time she might have even been concerned following her disappearance from Ravensblood, but the worry had been fleeting. Aria had chosen to leave, after all, and it was Durnehviir who remained.

With the mystery surrounding her return and avoidence, the russet Frostfur felt as though she had something to hide - and her natural suspicion was roused once more. She'd come just in time to settle for the Winter, after all, and Durnehviir had scented her on the hide of her mate upon his return on many an evening.

She kept her own distance, observing from afar, and fearing the day she'd have solid evidence of Constantine's betrayal.

Aria turned to her and, with a twitch of her lip as she fought the urge to pull them back in a flash of fangs, Durnehviir rose her proud muzzle and straightened her posture. In large part, she hoped that the pallid she-wolf would see fit to challenge her in this private moment, so she could channel her frustrated aggression appropriately. Instead, Aria dipped her own head and her ears splayed backward - a submission.

Through flared nostrils, she exhaled a breath. How unfortunate.

"And to you," was her cool, collected response despite the accusations she wished to spit.