The cardinal sin

Daylight broke over the eastern horizon just as the dark form of the dire wolf crossed the floating bridge that connected Alias Island to mainland Boreas. High tide kept the bridge afloat, allowing Alastor to cross with ease, something he was grateful they had constructed early on in the pack's residence in these lands. It sure as hell beat swimming across the channel, especially with how fatigued he was after his long and active night bedding the in-heat Relm. Alastor had lost track of how many times he and his lover had one another through the night; all he knew was that neither had gotten much sleep. She was resting peacefully now, and Alastor had slipped out after a couple hours of rest in order to get back to his den before daybreak. That, it seemed, wouldn't be happening. Oh well, no big deal, he supposed. He would just have to deal with Manea's prying questions if she happened to be awake already.

Reaching the rocky shore of the island, the dark dire began plodding his way up through the pine forest towards the mountains of his home. He had bathed in the lake after he'd left Relm, not wanting to bring the smell of the other fae along with him when he returned home. Ordinarily, this would have done the trick, but with Relm in heat, her scent was far stronger now and permeated him like a miasma. No matter how much he scrubbed his fur, without any of the soaps or oils back home, he could not remove the pheromone-laced scent from his coat. Now he just prayed Manea was still asleep so he could sneak in, grab a few scented oils, and sneak out to clean himself up properly before she woke up. Alastor trudged up the mountain path, the morning sun now mostly up and casting bright golden rays of light across the land. Birds sung their morning songs, earning a scowl and snarl from the tired dire. All he really wanted to do was go crawl into bed now and catch up on the sleep he'd so eagerly missed out on for a few good rolls in the hay.

Alastor reached his family's den, breathing a sigh of relief as he slipped into the darkness. His movements were slow and methodical, practically tiptoeing around so he wouldn't rouse anyone unnecessarily. All he had to do was sneak down the tunnels to his and Manea's sleeping chamber, snatch a few bottles of oil, and slip back out. Easy peasy, right?

"Alastor Mendacium"