Kjell was tired. Sure, the leader of White Fir Notch had patched him up (or something like that, he was missing an eye, after all), but he still didn’t feel whole. Or less than hurt. He just never felt like he could catch up, could keep up, like all his energy had fizzled out at once. Bennet had told him she’d needed a bit of space – the man didn’t question his niece. Maybe she needed to mourn privately, or something. Who was he to judge?
The problem was that Veho had run him off from the Grizzly Hollow borders (and perhaps he should have seen an angry alpha coming, giving the change in Signy’s scent after their bonding), and how the hell was Bennet supposed to know where her uncle had run off to? Would anyone even tell her, or would the gray man run her off, too?
Sighing heavily, the loner continued his slow pace, ignoring the freezing mist as he bowed his head down. He’d get a drink and keep moving, maybe circle back, and—
All at once, Kjell’s legs went out from underneath him. The swarthy male splashed into the strath, the shock of cold washing all over him as he let free a wordless shout.