The reckoning of a Queen

He awoke suddenly, a brush of cool air sweeping over him. Bringing with it the reminder of pain. Feeling the sting of cuts along his legs. His head pounded and ached. The feeling of unease found him. He bolted to his feet, stumbled, and found his balance. His eye went to the door, the coat that hung in the doorframe drifted in a cool wind, unsecured.

Where was he? What was this place? He moved uneasily forward, looking about the well organized den, dug for a frame as large as own. The clutter of coats and half-made weapons lay in a tidy pile in one corner, a few herbs and bits and bobs in another. The scent of wolves bung in the air. It was soaked in the coat he had stepped on, and lingered in every corner of the den. It smelled like a female wolf, and as if brought to life by the memory, a figure moved through the door. Staggered, would be more accurate. The strong scent of fermented goods on her breath. A strong rack of antlers adorned her head /what in all the world's.../

Her scent came to him, stronger then ever, and with it, a name. Zee. Zee Fatalis. His Zee. She was drunk, and the reason why brought him regret. Why, what did he regret? Who was he... who was he to her?
"Zee..." he whispered softly. "Where am I"