Whittle Away the Time We Have

She didn’t think it was terribly amusing to consider one jinxed or cursed. She was starting to get the edges of Alastor’s self-deprecation. It was both similar and different to her own. He seemed to think he would not be able to find or be worthy of another love, another pack, the worthwhile time of another. Sera thought herself broken and irreparable with glitches in her system she would have to learn to live with.

As she butchered the elk she heard the crunch of paws on the snow, and her head darted up. But even as she looked he seemed to remember, and step back. It was terribly inconvenient, her glitches, but he seemed willing to work around them.

Once she had broken off a decent part of the haunch and back - perhaps a quarter of the remaining kill - she grabbed it, and dragged it away. Giving Alastor room to approach.

She was surprised to learn that the alphas he knew were father and daughter. Of the same pack? He didn’t seem to mean it that way. The woman he had been promised to must have been about to start a pack when she turned tail and ran instead. Leaving behind not only her promise to Alas, but to her forming pack as well. She shook her head, knowing exactly how she felt about that wolf already. Promises were worth more.

“An Alpha’s daughter should know better” she grumbled darkly - not that she was any authority on the subject. “Yes - of course” she agreed as his question, rather pleased to be labelled ‘huntress’ her body perked up at the title, and as she grabbed her haunch she carried it with her head held high.

"Speech"