March 11th, late night just before midnight, clear sky, -11F/-23C
Finley didn’t know the details of what had happened between Siyet and Jethro after that sunset she and the man had watched together. She could only take the smallest clues and put them together, like the woman’s fading scent within the territory. She could be just taking some space and then coming back or she could be gone for good, but Finley could only assume that meant the conversation between the betrothed had not gone well.
The mother felt guilty and had been trying to keep herself busy, especially because she didn’t feel as guilty as she should. Did she feel badly that Siyet was probably hurt? Yes. Was she also happy that meant she might have the opportunity to have a family and explore where things would go with Jethro? Definitely yes. And she couldn’t keep “keeping busy” anymore, she needed to speak with Jethro and potentially other things. Spring had sprung, and with it had brought the familiar feeling of her heat.
There was no way for her to leave a note for Jethro. Instead she left as far as she could while still being within earshot and then called for him to meet her at the lake. Now she just had to wait, stomach filled with nervous butterflies. Finley wasn’t sure entirely what she was so nervous about, but it was hard for her to keep her paws still and not to pace about.