burning bridges

The flighty, desperate need to be on the move that he had seen in her eyes faded, and there was something else to take their place. A resolve, a stead-fast determination as she looked up at the marginally taller wolf, and it echoed in him, as he in turn looked down at the fanged woman before him.

She nuzzled him, and he dipped his head lower, returning the gesture, his tail a banner straight behind him, shifting slightly left and right as through knocked by a breeze in the wind. “Training you is my pleasure” he confirmed, he had enjoyed the lessons he had had with the woman. It was true he had not devoted as much time to it as he should have, ever since he broke his leg, and moved the pack here to its new home. They both had been distracted, but there was a renewal in their bonds to each other, a strengthening. They meant something to one another now, that went further than the ties of master and pupil. “I am a possessive bastard, and there are few that I call mine, but you are one of them, Banshee.” he said, the promise in his voice was one of absolutes.