She has a mate, idiot, her mind answered a moment later, and the woman couldn’t help but roll her eyes at herself. Yes, that probably did help, regardless if she intended to have puppies in the spring or not. This was yet another season, and yet another heat, rolling through and leaving the small female running for the hills. There was no reason to, not in particular. None of the males in Fallen Tree Cove had acted even remotely interested, much less inappropriately -- and none of females seemed to be overly dominant, either.
It was habit, maybe.
Or maybe it was time spent with Orin.
A forcible shiver ran through the woman’s body, a sharp contrast to the overwhelming warmth that spread from toes to nose, and she picked up an awkward lope as she traced the trails, just like she used to. It was familiar. It felt good. Hopefully, she could burn up enough energy and sleep peacefully tonight, away from the pack, like always, but no further away than she had been in the past. That would be nice. Be good. Good thoughts, she was going to think good thoughts. This was Fallen Tree Cove. Nothing bad ever happened here.