Sleep didn't come easy. She paced around the area outside of the den mindlessly. Maybe it was nausea or maybe it was the worry over her son's absence. Perhaps it was simply her own mind being rude to herself, denying her the sleep and peace she wanted. Either way, it was driving her mad.
The pale leader drifted away from the den to reach the edge of the pack's territory. Her head tipped up, examining the mountain walls around them. The rough edges of stone seemed illuminated in the morning light. It was beautiful and while she should have been perhaps grateful for having such a lovely home with a well working group of wolves (despite all their differences) she felt a void within her. Something was missing amongst it all.
A sharp breath of air was sucked into her lungs as tears pricked at her eyes. She realized that while she loved this place, loved the man by her side and the wolves below her, it would never be the north. There was no @Morganna and no Wraith. Realizing it hurt the most. She had been so keen on bottling her emotions up and moving on for the best that she had never properly dealt with her loss. She should have stayed in the north or stuck by the peach-eyed Archer in the south. But she had made her mark here and had signed her fate. There was no turning back now even if the whirlwind of emotions in her told her to.
She took in another deep breath before she turned her back to the borders. The Santoro would compose herself, seal up the vault of emotions and continue on her way. If anyone asked or saw her small slip up then perhaps she could blame it on pregnancy hormones. It wouldn't be a total lie, would it?
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