Run away. Run away because she knew that if he had not been hers by their second year, he would never be. She knows this because she has seen the ties be wrought between imprints and it is clear to her that there is no hope. There is no unwinding or rewinding fate and it suffocated her in forever unrequited feelings. It sent her into the arms of the bowels of the earth and it would forever keep her at arms distance. The lean figure of the rat-eater, the snake-eater, the badger-bane speaks to just how long she has not fed upon the large prey of open plains. Her eyes, squinted with her need for the dark depths, catching sight of Dimitri when she emerges.

               She freezes at the mouth of her crevice, ears perked at first and then tucking to the sides as he speaks her name and it chills her to the bone. It chills her because she can smell the mire on his coat, can smell the moorland fog in his breath. To her it smells like a sickness and it disquiets her insides. It chills her because she knows that behind her name is a feeling of loss and affection that meant nothing in the grander scheme of this horrible place. Were all men to be so impossible to love? Were all men to be without the freedom of loving whom they had grown to love?

               "In the caves. I found crystals and bats and so many interesting weaving tunnels." She tries to pass that off as acceptable, as if there was no harm done. As if her heart wasn't buried somewhere in Scotavia, in the Outer Rim, in the caves that tunneled below her feet. She emerges entirely and still her eyes wont allow her sight without pain. She shakes herself, here or there blemishes to her cream coat speaking of fights with much more dangerous creatures who liked the mouths of tunnels for their bed-nests. She turns her head, eyes closed, to look in the direction all her other honed senses said Dimitri was, off by a margin at the very most. "Leaving my heart where it need lay."

               She says things like her mother, meaning and such things lost in the riddle - but so very obvious to those who knew the circumstances. She sniffs the wind. "You are of the Demons, then..." She says, voice soft - hardly more than a breath as she fears to upset him, wishes to keep her feelings on his chosen family a secret. Preserve. Preserve him from her judgments and her from his people.