How Do We Come Back From Losing You? [Fidelias]

Fidelias came quickly, from the wall, and she could guess that he’d been busy on the wall, taking extra sentry duty. He was good at it; good at quietly observing and being unobtrusive. Potential there, in time, but first, it would be good to see what he wanted for himself in Valhalla.

He never quite met anyone’s eyes, she thought as she studied him indirectly. Or, perhaps it was just her, though she doubted that. Her toes stretched apart as she thought for a moment, then said, softly, “I’m sorry, Fidelias. Part of an alpha’s duty to their pack is to protect them from dangers, and guide them through when the danger is unavoidable… I failed. I wasn’t in my right mind when you came to me last, so I wanted to offer my condolences. I know they aren’t much; they won’t bring her back—any of them.”

She breathed in deeply, feeling the remnants of that horrid illness catching in her chest and throat, before she cleared her throat and asked softly, “Have you heard anything from Kaija or Arne?”

It was probably a vain hope—Fidelias wasn’t one who ventured beyond the wall often that she’d seen or smelled. He was serious, duty-bound and lately, he seemed to drive himself hard; his scent was among the thickest on the wall, even in places where marks weren’t laid by the pack but their paws left the scent trails.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think