He had treated Aryn badly the last time he had seen her, and Eligos was surprised to find that he felt guilt over it. It had, in fact, bothered him far more than he ever would have expected, and he had finally given in to the idea that he wasn't going to stop feeling bad about it without doing what he rarely offered to anyone who wasn't family.

Apologize.

He made his way to Habari's borders, someplace he rarely chose to visit with the sight of the volcano that had been his father's funeral pyre looming over it, and raised his muzzle to call softly for Aryn. She'd said that she'd been in trouble for leaving the pack during her illness, and he didn't want to get her into more trouble for meeting another pack's alpha - a mercenary pack at that, one many of the other alphas didn't trust - but he couldn't leave this until the next time they happened to meet.

Two tiny horns prodded gently against Aryn's still form, snapping her from her daydreams. The dik-dik had proved a valuable companion over the course of the season, and over time had grown from mere companion into something more akin to friendship - something Aryn found she was sorely lacking within the smothering borders of Habari. She gave the small deer a thankful smile, tipping her head to hear the end of the soft call.

The voice was painfully familiar, and though the tone and timber did not match her most-recalled recent memory of the man, Aryn found herself grimacing in embarrassment all over again. He had called her out with the terrifying precision of an assassin, his words expertly piercing whatever imaginary relationship she had dreamed up so long ago. Aryn held the memory close as if it could shield her, reminding her that crushes were for puppies and fairytails.

Swallowing hard, she began to slink toward the border. Eligos had clearly been trying to keep his voice low for her benefit (a fact she appreciated) but there was no knowing if choosing to ignore the call might have him trying again, but this time loud enough to wake the albino alpha who preferred to sleep away the daylight hours.

Coming up on the Abraxas mercenary, Aryn met his gaze briefly and greeted him with a deferential bow of her head. "How can I help you, Eligos?" She questioned softly, a burn lingering in her cheeks. Behind her, her faithful dik-dik pranced happily through the grasses, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness that was currently drowning its master.

That new distance between them had widened since their last meeting, though Eligos wasn't surprised after the way he had treated her. Once he would have been pleased and relieved, but now the gulf troubled him. He didn't have so many he was close to that losing one, no matter how exasperating she had been at the start of their relationship, sat easily with him. Particularly with his current exile. But how to fix what he had done? "Aryn, I..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I wanted to... Apologize for the way I treated you, at the festival. You have always been good to me, and you did not deserve to be treated the way I acted towards you. I am sorry." His eyes studied her with concern, noting again the changes between them, and sighed. "You deserve better from a friend than I have given you."

Aryn observed him in silence, blinking her wide eyes in soft surprise at the way the usually solemn Abraxas man was conducting himself. While she had always believed him to be capable of some form of softness, this awkward, apologetic side of Eligos was as surprising as anything she could have imagined. Her upbringing returned to her and with it, some measure of shame coming with it for putting him in the position to feel this way. Her weight shifted slightly from side to side as she absorbed it, suddenly nervous about how she could respond without making him uncomfortable further.

"It's okay." Aryn settled on eventually, cringing internally at how underwhelming the words felt. She lapsed into brief silence, contemplating again but coming up empty on how she could improve the sentiment. A moment passed and a hesitant smile tugged at her lip. "I didn't know you considered me a friend." She teased gently, biting her lip against the memory of the last time she'd dared to playfully taunt him.