Pain shot through her with every step she took as she slowly made her way back toward Nomad's Pass. She had tended to her wounds but still felt sore and injured, her abdomen felt tight and tumultuous. Grief strode alongside her with its hand on her silvery shoulder and she shuddered whenever the wind ran its fingers through her fur. Fear sat upon her shoulders and dug its claws into the back of her neck. Anger trailed along her throat like a hot mist clinging to her, but it ebbed and surged in tandem with the grating feelings of fear and grief. The woman had lost something most precious to her, but having discovered that small spark of hope had cast a shadow over her as well, knowing that as happy as she had felt to be carrying Rhysis' children, she'd been equally- if not more- filled with fear and insecurity.

She resolved to be strong, and to pass everything off. It had been a scuffle with some loner, someone who'd seen even worse from her. A small detail, nothing big. But whenever she rehearsed the speech in her head she felt her eyes filling with tears, and felt the wounds on the nape of her neck which were all too telling of what had happened. The stiffness with which her hind legs moved was yet another dead giveaway; she felt shamed, ruined. She struggled to right her crown and keep her pride, but it was an uphill battle against the longbow of a terrible enemy.

She knew, though, no matter what story came through her lips- a lie or the truth- that Rhysis would need to hear it first. So when she reached the outskirts of the borders she stopped and lay down. She concealed herself as much as possible by finding shelter beneath the branches of a spruce tree and decided to wait. Rhysis was a guardian, a prowling black lion- he would be along at some point. She could not bear to speak of this to anyone but him, but she feared the conversation she would have with him almost as much. Exhausted, she slipped into a dreamless slumber which released her only when the moon's full, pallid face over the mountain's peak. She lifted her head and sniffed; he was nearby. Now she only had to wait.

Home. Did he really want to be here? Though it had only been a week or so, he felt his paws heavy at the thought of return. He could not vanish for long- as much as they didn't get along, Naira was his responsibility, and she was carrying his young. With the thread of the wolves who shared their mountain evident, he could not afford to be gone for long and leave her unprotected. Of course, she had the rest of her pack but in his eyes they were not as strong as he was and only he could defeat all of their enemies. He really should change his name from Rhysis to Ego... or God. Either worked.

Though he had not gone far, he had left the mountain so had to travel back up the steep incline. It was a journey which was as familiar as the fur on the back of his paws, the paths to take, the twists and turns, the dangerous sections that required complete concentration the works. It was a long trip which he made in one go, beginning at sunrise and now that night crept upon him he finally could see the lip of their homelands and the feeling of dread returned. He was going back there... without Sagacity to keep him sane as he lived amongst a bunch of wolves who looked down upon him, even though he sat far above their heads on his throne.


Her scent hit him, like a slap right across the face. His footsteps paused as he raised his head, searching the wind for the scent he hadn't been sure if he imagined or not. Another taste and he was certain, she was here. "Sagacity?" he breathed out a whisper, his eyes searching the floor this way and that. It would not be unusual to find her laying upon the floor.

On her own the misery had been manageable after the shock had passed. Waves of grief, anger and pain still struck her, but she was able to control herself when she was not in the presence of any others. The anticipation of seeing Rhysis now that she was awake was beginning to make those waves come more frequently, like a storm drawing closer and closer to the mainland. Panic hit her a few times when she doubted herself and when she wondered if he might reject her and cast her from the pack for what had happened. But she would pull herself together and stay strong, she hoped. She would be professional; she would tell him she got in a fight with some too-big-for-his-britches loner but had managed fine.

But as soon as she saw him she froze; the storm crashed against the storm with a thunderous clamour, the waves grew and overwhelmed her in one fell swoop. She became immediately plethoric with agony and grief. At once she both feared and needed him, and rose sheepishly, though having been prone she felt even more stiff and her lameness became even more pronounced. She looked wilted, but a small spark of defiance made her curl her lips slightly, though it could have easily also been a grimace of pain. "Rhy-" She said in a pleading tone, her voice cutting out halfway through the word though her lips and tongue finished it. She felt obliged to apologize, and sank a moment later into a crouch, hind limbs shaking as they protested having to hold her in such a position.