It was a curious feeling, pain mixed with relief, knowing that now he would be able to rest easy. He walked slowly, passing the trees and listening to the soft sounds of night, taking comfort in his solitude. Avery, his newfound companion, had parted ways with him earlier. She, being of a different pack, had things to attend to as did he. So with a nod they parted, him limping while she walked gingerly not wanting to aggravate the wounds on her shoulders and back. Sort of how he walked now, head held carefully as not to aggravate the puncture wounds beneath his jaw at the top of his neck. Each step rolled his sore shoulder, his blood drying on his fur, the wound aggravated from his walk. But the dull pain was nothing compared to the sharp caress his leg shot up his body. Each stride bringing new clarity, this he knew…this he knew how to handle.

He does not know how long it takes him to reach the base of the mountain, but the moon is high, her light bright. Cringing at the climb before him, he pauses. His head dipping to drag his tongue across the wound that paints his leg before taking his first step. He tries to be strong, he really does but the sensation that flares to life is enough to make him wince and growl. Tail lashes behind him as he takes another step, biting back a whimper as he grits his teeth and endures it, pausing as his skin begins to prickle with sweat. Perhaps he should have thought this through more, he really should not have sacrificed his leg. Shaking his head he takes another step, then another, and this is how it goes. The hour turning into two when it should have only been an forty minute climb. Yet when he finally collapses on the other side of the border, shielded from prying eyes between two large rocks, he is relieved. Tucking his leg close to his chest he sighs, before eyeing the now freely bleeding wound. It is deep, and in two places you can see the white of his bone…or is it muscle? Head tilts as he studies it, fascinated in the mechanics of his body.

Somewhere within his mind he knows he should go check on Dragon, see that the healers have done their job. Yet the thought of moving, of another assent has him wincing. Yes, he will move, just in one moment.

Ears twitch at the call of an owl, and his sigh nips on the heels of the whoot. This is his home, a place he vowed to protect and cherish. Could he do that with Dragon with another? Could he view his duty as nothing more than a duty when he dies inside knowing that she has chose another and will always do so? Head lowers as a sob rises only to cut off when his snout touches his leg. Crown jerks up as a low bark echos into the air.

”Dammint.”

He growls as he forces himself up, hobbling from his shelter and into the open once again. He angles himself toward the den, toward the place of emotional death when he notices a flash of eyes. Pausing, sore leg up close to his body, he looks; mouth parting to draw in the scent. Only once he does he cringes for it belongs to the one wolf he did not WANT to see. Flame. The ruby hued wolf with the emerald eyes, eyes that are all knowing, eyes that stare him with such accusing heat he sighs yet again.

”Shit.”

He murmurs, sure that he can hear him. Maybe if he pretends that he is not there he will go away. Hell he would do anything to be able to remove himself or sink through the mountain this very moment. He was tired, wounded, and…and sad. His emotional well was depleted and he didn’t have the strength to go over his short comings. He knew that it was coming, had went through it with Dragon when they first came together those seasons ago. She had turned on him, seeking physical retribution and he had given it to her. He had given her his submission and bade her to take her due, to take his voice if she so desired.

Turning he makes to move away from the warrior, dread rising within with each hopping step.