It was warmer tonight than it had been over the last fortnight, they had even seen light snow over the last few days. And that was devastating. It was a reminder that winter was not so far away and this would be the first season he was facing with Vanadis. Last winter she had not been here, but at least a small part of him had been holding onto the fact that she could turn up at any time.

She would never be here again.

There would be no slinking off in the dead of the night, leaving two sets of pawprints behind them as they left for one of their private rendezvous. No potentially whispering about cub names in the spring. There would be nothing. And that’s how he felt, nothing, numb, like she had taken his soul with her when she went. He thought he was doing a good job of faking it at home, cognizant that he couldn’t retreat like he had with Sephrina, but it was every present. He did his duties, and socialized with the other members, but when he was alone he could let the mask fall. Then it left how he truly felt, dead eyed thousand yard stare, limp body language.

Tonight he was too exhausted to pretend and so he had left the territory to find somewhere else to sleep, eventually finding himself in an old pack den amongst the creepy woods. Even as the cat began to yowl he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head to investigate how close it was. Let it eat him - if that’s what it wanted to do. Viorel didn't even try to smother the coughing fit that would definitely give away his location should something be coming to get me.