@Karpos Lol she's such a drama queen
At first Nova waited for him to return. The first day passed by in a crawl, and the second moved even slower at an excruciating drag. Every moment she kept her senses tuned for her beloved, listening for every whistle of wind through the trees that might sound like his voice, every rustle of grass that could be his pawsteps. She didn't know when he would return, or even if he would. For all she knew, he was gone forever. He said he would come back, but a small part of her wasn't so sure anymore. Up until their fight she had been so sure of their relationship.
A hollow feeling had taken up residence in her chest, somehow both empty and impossibly heavy. Her limbs ached and she wanted to do nothing but lay in their den, bury her nose into the tufts of fur @Camio had left behind and inhale his scent. She had gathered all the stray bits of golden fur into a little pile, weighted down by a strange looking stone she had found that reminded her of a lynx's eye.
By the third day, Nova wasn't feeling much better. She didn't want to do anything, but knew it would be best if she at least got up and took a look at the world. Nova finally dragged herself out of the den, facing the cold, bright white wall of fog that had settled over the land. It was odd, but beautiful in its own way. Slowly, with no life in her step she shuffled towards the border, purposefully avoiding the patch of land where they had fought. She tried to smash down the hopes that she would see him just outside the borders. She figured if he wanted to be found, he would be, and if he didn't he wouldn't.
Nova found a trickling creek and followed the water upstream. She really looked at it, tried to pretend to be the water. She followed it as it rushed over rocks, eddied past fallen logs, grew still in pools, or froze solid at its shallower edges. She followed it until her paws grew sore, and the sun weakly beamed through the fog as it drooped lazily at its low southern zenith. As she slowed to a stop, the illusion was lost. She didn't feel ever changing and adaptable like the stream. She felt stuck, mucky, dirty, worthless. She was a worm perhaps. If she had done things right, Camio would still be here. She was a gross little worm and she didn't deserve him. Nova collapsed onto the ground beside the creek, listing onto her side as she whined.