Vanadis waited for Viorel's reaction, waited for him to process the garbled mess of words that had spilled from her lips as they walked. She was ready for it, the fight, the argument, the anger, the goodbye. Whatever decision he made, she would accept. The ball was in his court now.

Vana stopped when he did, her peachy gaze swiveling to find his. It took the woman second to process the whisper, to really understand what he said and meant. She had to blink, once, twice. She'd been through several scenarios in her mind, but none of them had led her here.

He wasn't far, not even a tail length away. One step and she'd be able to bury her muzzle in his fur; two and she could have wrapped her neck around his, but the woman did not move. Instead, Vanadis reached out in an attempt to gently press her nose to the spot where his jaw and neck met. She didn't have the words to convey it, didn't have the courage to say anything at all, but perhaps her actions could speak for her.