He still felt kind of shitty about leaving Askan so quickly like that. It wasn’t like Cottongrass needed him that badly – worse still, the guy probably knew that, too. Probably knew his mind was racing (or knew he’d gone down the gutter, damn it all), probably knew Reyes was actually thrown off kilter for the first time in ages. The self-loathing probably wasn’t very helpful, either – took the man a whole week to decide to turn his ass around and head back to the lowlands. To find the damn ‘Field’ or whatever Askan had called it.
And with him he brought a gift. Well, it was a kill, technically. But he had made it without any assistance, and with the other male in mind, so--
Well, it was more as a repayment than a gift. (Even if Askan had only cleaned him up after savaging his neck, but that was besides the point.) The added weight slowed the loner considerably more than he had planned, however, and by the time he’d brought the hare to the lowlands, night had long since fallen. Above him, the northern lights began to slither to life, greens and reds starting to dance across the sky as he scanned the horizon. Where the hell was Askan? Or ‘the Field’?
Shit, he was seriously barking up the wrong tree.