We all make mistakes

There had been trouble at the border that went on long into the night. It was some time past midnight when he dragged himself home, bruised and bloody. When he trudged up the incline to his den, fatigue dragged him down. He could barely keep his eyes open as he pushed open the main door.

A blow to his nose put blood in the offended sensor, and he couldn't smell a thing. But he didn't need scent to tell him Ignita had gotten up and was in the kitchen. Perhaps waiting for him to come home. He let the soft sound of paws guide him as he turned left instead of right.

He was so tired, so sore. All he wanted to do was curl up in her arms and sleep. His wounds could be tended tomorrow. Or was that later today at this point? He stepped quietly behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her in close as he bent his head to the nape of her neck. He attempted to breath in her comforting scent, but all he could smell was blood as it bubbled in his nose. “My love” he whispered voice rough from lack of sleep.