it's playing like a wreck

His falcon led him along the beach, until a familiar tinge of red stood out against the monochrome rocks. He was not the smallest wolf, but he had the gait of a predator. Stepped quietly across the dark sand as manoeuvred around the obstacles to her still form. The scent of alcohol caught his attention, and as he reached her and his giant form flopped down beside her, he snagged the bottle and took a long sip. Resting the container in the sand between them. “We need to talk about it,” he said quietly. 


He had some things to say, so he continued on. “I did not come to make decisions for either of you. A new, different route had opened and I came to ask your opinions and advice. This was my father, after all. Instead of discussion, you attacked me. It hurt, Hazel. It hurt a lot.” He sighed, and looked at her familiar form. It felt a little too much like kicking her while she was down. “But I realise now that I didn't see how it would affect you. What dark memories it would dredge up. I'm sorry, Hazel.”