it had been a week or so since the battle, and things were...complicated, to say the least.

first, and probably the worst effect of the battle, was shae’s death. her father had told her in a soft whisper, hushed with grief and all too aware the children in the den behind him - particularly malina’s harsh, hiccuping sobs. there was something strange about her father’s grief. when sophie had died, she had been told that he was catatonic with depression, a mess and stuck so deeply into his head that he couldn’t escape or care for himself, let alone his children. it had been just the opposite, thus far. he’d been extraordinarily dedicated to the four children, spending as much of his time awake as he possibly could. she herself had not seen the children since the battle, only her father when he briefly came to see her. katia had never been the most religious of wolves, but she found herself praying for him, and for her siblings.

however, for as well as her father, katia was a mess. akuji’s damage to her shoulder hadn’t been light, and it throbbed and ached constantly. it had begun to scab up after she’d applied a poultice to it, and she’d never been so grateful to her extended family for their knowledge. katia wasn’t sure the complete extent of the damage, specifically because of how deep he had gone, but she had been careful to keep it clean and coated with the poultice. and further than physical damage, the pallid fatale was borderline sick with heartache. her shoulder had kept her fairly immobile, and that had meant she couldn’t hunt down her monster. they had a lot to talk about, and the distance between them felt as vast as any ocean when she wasn’t able to curl up against his side at night and fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart. at this point she wasn’t even sure if he had resumed his habit of keeping watch over her from the shadows, or if he’d taken to simply disappearing during the day.

she missed her beast more than anything - his presence was a comfort, and she felt the lack of it like the gaping wound in her shoulder. waking up without him at her back was only a reminder of this, and the slender femme closed her eyes this morning as soon as she realized his absence. katia allowed herself a few precious seconds of darkness, and then rose without further hesitation. stepping out of the den, the woman tipped her head back and allowed the sunlight to warm her, murmuring a greeting and prayer of thanks to Tor for blessing her with another day on this earth. with that done, soft eyes scanned the area surrounding their den for a familiar flash of ginger fur or mocha eyes. finding neither, she took a deep breath and then called, ”akuji? there’s some things we need to talk about.”