the downward spiral

Valentine spent his days both overjoyed and exhausted. His youngest litter was rowdy and growing strong. Soon enough they would be yearlings and he could boot them from the den and set them loose on Boreas. And, more importantly, go back to being a grumpy old man who napped frequently in the sun. God he missed naps.

Presently he was walking the line between the orchard and the range in search of one of Tyrian’s trinkets. Supposedly it had been flung in this direction at one point and lost forever, but he was going to be the judge of that.

Valentine spied Rhythm close by in the Orchard but made no move to join her or call out to her as he walked the border. It felt like she was actively avoiding him so he didn’t want to be a bother. This has been her state for some time now and more than once Valentine had found himself flirting with the thought that perhaps he had made a mistake in asking her to help raise the litter. He desperately needed the help and she had been helpful, but her defeated and boozy demeanor was that of a slave and he didn’t want them thinking it was acceptable behavior.