MEN SHOULD KEEP THEIR WORD . . .

After Macaria had left, Grey Wind debated if he should follow her or not. In the end he decided to give her some time to herself. It was because of him that she had left after all. He did leave the den though, looking at the treeless landscape of their home. He needed to bury Missandei, and he wanted there to be something to protect her grave. So he went around the back until he found a rock group that would do just that. He dug and dug, letting out all of his grief and his rage as he did so. He knew that he had messed up in the worst way possible. And he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to make it right again. Once the grave was deep and large enough for Missandei he paused, panting heavily. His scaled paws were sore and bleeding from his frantic digging at the rock hard earth. But the physical pain was better than anything else he had felt before. He realized then that maybe he should finish this deed without Macaria. Did she feel that she had said goodbye? Or had his attitude entirely ruined that. No, she needed the chance to be alone with Missandei should she wish. So he left the grave where it was and left their daughter in their den. She looked like she was merely resting, and not dead.

With a sigh the male padded away from the den. He was a bit more sane than the initial shock of finding Missandei dead had left him. He was beginning to realize just how much damage he had done. Would he ever be able to repair he and Macaria’s relationship? He wasn’t sure. But he could only hope. He should have been the one to comfort his mate, and instead he had turned on her. He wouldn’t blame her if she never forgave him. But maybe they could somehow move past this, as they had always done. But he knew that he had to give her time to herself. He had left Missandei should Macaria come back and want some time with their daughter. He had already made things bad enough and didn’t want to intrude. He had had his own moment with her and he had to give his mate the same chance as well. But he couldn’t just sit at the den and linger. He had to get out of the pack, to clear his head. So the scaled brute started off at a sprint, as if he was running for his life. And in a way he was. It seemed that his life had come to a halting end. He may have ruined everything with his mate permanently. And without her what was the point of going on? A snarl appeared on his features as he let the wind and the air blow through his scales and fur. Why had he behaved the way he did? Why did he think he could blame Macaria for what had happened? She had been in no way a part of it, and yet he had blamed her entire race. He knew that there were good vampires and bad ones, just as there were good wolves and bad ones. So why had this been the time for him to lose his sanity and lash out at the one he loved. At a time that they needed each other most.

The next few days went by in a blur. He didn’t know if a night or a week had passed. He let himself wallow in grief and pain. He needed to feel it all for it to be real. But it was so hard to bear he wondered if he would ever get through it. The brute felt nothing but the pain. He did not feel tired, or hunger, or thirst. He didn’t know if he would overcome this or if he would let it swallow him whole. In the end he fought through it, thinking of Macaria the whole time. They should have gone through this together. But instead because of his actions he had been isolated. What if she found someone else to comfort her in her time of need? Selfishly he didn’t want any other being to be the source of her comfort, but it was unfair for her to have to suffer alone as he had because of his actions. After giving them some time apart he could no longer stand it. And Grey Wind knew that he had to seek out his mate. All he could do was hope that he had not caused too much damage to ruin their relationship forever.

As paws carried him through the trees, trying to determine how would be best to find a wolf with no scent, he realized that he was traveling back to where he had found Missandei. The grief threatened to take him over again into that dark hole, but he didn’t let it. He had done his mourning and now he had a new task at hand. As Grey Wind went by the spot where he had found Missandei and the other male, he noticed something he had not initially noticed. There was another corpse there. His paws paused for a moment, and he realized why he had not noticed before. Even though this form was dead, it did not have a smell to it. That could only mean one thing…that this was the vampire that had been the murderer. It seemed that someone else had come and taken care of justice. There was a piece of the brute missing, just his tail. But the rest of him was there. And when Grey Wind got closer to examine the body more, he realized that he recognized this male. It was Thackery. The very wolf that had saved Macaria…turned Macaria…helped Macaria survive the birth of their pups…including Missandei…had been the one to kill her! How could this have happened? Grey Wind thought he was a half decent wolf. Why else would he have helped them? A shiver of anger made his hackles raise. Did knowing the killer help him with his grief? He wasn’t sure. But would it help Macaria? Again, he did not know. But he could at least tell her what he had discovered. If she let him talk to her again that was.

The male left the scene, knowing he could gather no more information than he already had. Swallowing fiercely to push down the emotions that threatened to come back out again, he began walking again. Wanting to put distance between himself and the scene he had come upon. Once he was back in the thick of the trees, he realized he still had no way of finding Macaria. It was the dark of night again, only the moon and the stars to light his way. But without her scent to track, she could stay hidden from him forever. He knew that the only way would be to call for her. And that worried him. What if she chose to ignore him? What if she was too far away to hear his call? A whine escaped his throat at the thought of never seeing his mate again because of what he had done. In the end, he lifted his maw to the sky, a mournful and begging cry escaped his throat as he called to her. All he could do was hope that she would give him a chance to apologize. He would do anything to make this right again. His scaled form sat on the earth, anxiously waiting to see if Macaria would come.

Picture and table credit to xathira!