Broken Antler Fen give in to the lonely

He had slept. Restless nights had given away to the breaking of dawn, and the small hollow that Akavir had settled himself to—away from all the others—tried to greet him with the promise of budding spring and what would be a beautiful day. He turned from it, tucking his muzzle beneath a forelimb, blocking the light to once more welcome the dark.

He dreamt, but none of it was something he wanted to hold on to and remember. A rumbling growl would slip past his lips in his sleep, though he did not stir further. Hours passed, and only when the sun began to sit did the man finally begin to unfurl from himself. Champagne eyes skimmed the lands without interest, his teeth glinting as a yawn escaped him.

The swarthy wolf rose, bowing low as he stretched, ignoring the flare of pain in his flank to the old injury. It paled in comparison to the ache in his chest.

Ibis wanted space—he would give her that. For now, he actually had nothing to say to her, nor did he know what to think. Lilitu was gone, she had said—looking for him. He prowled to the marked borders, ignoring the squirrel that dashed out in front of him. A better man might have tried to capture the morsel to feed the new mouths his mate was feeding.

His mate? Or his ex-mate? He didn’t even know any longer. She had given him an ultimatum that he hadn’t understood, and still there was now a lingering doubt at her final admission. Had she only meant her new whelps that were not of his blood? Or…

He was lost in his thoughts, and as he made to do a round along the borders, Akavir idly wondered if it would simply be for the best if he cut past them… Maybe never even look back.