That was the thing about emotions, they were rarely rational. He was not snarling at her but at Meryl, but it could be seen that way when he whirled upon her, cold question dripping from his maw. He watches as her own lips pull back, her stained fangs bright as her own snarl rises. His mind tells him that she seeks dominance, that perhaps he should back down and fight this battle another way but…but he could not. Would not. To this day he had fought with her for dominance, had at times submitted to her, like when he had came back. He knew he was wrong and had bared his neck to her, had sought for her to find her own retribution. She had not done so, but now she seemed quite willing to tear into him…and for what? For him?! This was preposterous.

Ears flicker as she speaks, eyes searching hers when she pauses. It is then that he begins to relax, for this was only a friend. A healer, the highest of healers so that means that he would make sure she mended well. But then she continued and it was like his very being was smashed against the wall. It was not in his nature to feel things only slightly, when he felt he immersed his whole being into the emotion. There was no gray most of the time and this time….this time there was only black.

Imprint.

IT was the curse he had witnessed all his life. It was that thing that brought wolves together because they had the same soul. He, this little wolf was her imprint. Maybe he could have dealt with that, maybe he would have been able to get over the fact that her imprint was her, with her, touching her, and doing everything he longed to do. Maybe he would have got over this if his mind did not misconstrue her last words. She would kill him for this runt?! So she has chosen.

”You have spoken, My Queen and I understand perfectly.”

His voice holds the same frosty tone, the chilly bite never leaving nor does he dip his head. He had just been given his duty, and he had seen it through. Yes, the scent of herbs cling to his pelt like flies to shit yet that does not guarantee that he is who he says he is. She wanted him to protect her, yet when he moves to do so, she reprimands him. He did not know the male, she did. He did not trust the male, she did. He had done his duty. He had held true to his heart, and now he knows the truth of the matter. He moves to stand beside her, a silent sentry, his movement’s deadly silent as is the aura that clings to his bodice. He seeks blood; he wants the blood of the wolf who has stolen his Dragon in his eyes. He has destroyed something before it has even begun and he wants his pound of flesh as countenance.

No more words leave his maw as he catches the grateful smile, disgust welling up within him as his body involuntarily stiffens. Weak. It is what he was, relying on a wounded female to fight his battles. Yet other than the tension he does not show anything else facial or body wise, remaining still and never allowing his eyes to linger to Dragons’. His position was to protect her, nothing more or anything less. This is what he tells himself as another wolf enters the den, his body never moving to react. He faintly recognizes her as Dragon’s sister, she has came late to the meeting, but remembers. She calls out commands, none of which even gets a flick of his ear. Healer or not, he will not be ordered by anyone, not even the one he loves most. Unlike most he had the courage to break his own heart and see it through. It wouldn’t be the first time he has had to do such.

He tells himself this, over and over again. That he will do his duty, nothing more or less, but when the time comes, when Meryl touches her…he can not hold true. Can not sit idly by and watch this for it felt too much like a betrayal. It sliced to close to home and he was not one to, restrain himself for long. Rising, sure that she would be too out of it due to pain to notice he moves far away. He moves to the rim of the cave, overlooking the mountain in all of its glory. How sweet the night had began, only to morph into his greatest nightmare. Here he sits, ever vigilant as he tunes in to what is going on behind him and before him. If he were to leave now would she miss him? Or would she be too busy drowning in the ecstasy of having her imprint close? Surely it felt wonderful, it must be. Everything you feel is magnified by your imprint. Every moment is more special, the emotions….the longing.

Head turns to gaze back into the den, to watch the progression and the soothing voice of the runt as he speaks. Was this how she felt when he left? Did she feel shattered like everything has lost meaning? That she had just lost the sun and was only left with the moon? Such was the depth of his emotions, the intensity of his internal despair, and he knows that he will never speak of this. He knows that he will never show how much she meant to him ever again for to him, in his eyes she has chosen. She has made it clear that when it came down to it who she will chose. She did not stand with him, but invited another to her den. She sought the comfort of her soul without thinking about the impact it would have on what could have been between them. This was different then when they were puppies. This was different then when they were younger because over the seasons he has grown to know her in a different way. He had grown to hope for more between them besides competition. Perhaps it is his own fault; he has no business feeling this way for she is not his mate. He is to blame for the unfurling black hole within his chest, not the healer. He should not have wanted what was not his.

He waits, to see if she will have need of him. He watches the trio and something strikes him, and it is not the whack upon the head that one would assume but the subtle itching that demands attention. He is not needed. He is not needed here or possibly in the future. Rising to his paws he casts one look back before slipping away, his dark form melding into the darkness from which he was birthed.

OOC: Sorry for the long post. You guys know that Leo is GO GO GO Intensity all day and night.