The sun would rise, the seasons would change, wolves would be born, and wolves would die. All of those things were inevitable. Even the Gods, bound by the threads of fate, were unable to change was was and what had to be, which meant that this feeling... well that was inevitable too.
When the first wayward feelings of spring finally hit, Saga tried to make herself scarce without being absent, which was a feat unto itself, but as the days passed and the feeling grew stronger, the woman found it harder and harder to stay away. Somehow she had thought herself stronger than instinct, as if she would be able to deny nature itself, simply because she wanted to. So when the monochrome fae found herself following Hudson's trail she told herself that it was definitely because she needed to touch base with him. After all, she'd scouted a small herd of deer to the south of the forest. Never mind that it was the middle of the night, and never mind that from what she could tell he happened to be entirely alone.
As soon as her eyes fell over his form, she spoke, hoping that she was far enough away not to startle him. "Can't sleep?"