whatever it takes

Why had he been so foolish to listen to his daughter? He never should have followed her back to Tortuga. Qanik was better off thinking he was dead.

The girl had been such a dream to him. She was so strong, so loving, so supportive. He had seemingly thrown it all away with just one meeting at the border. It had taken all of his strength to pull himself out of the depressed stupor she had left him in. They needed to talk, if not to make things right, then merely to make it perfectly clear to both parties what had transpired.

It was with pain and hesitancy that Flamesong found himself at Qanik's den on that winter morning, pacing between red pines and shuffling his paws in the snow. He could smell that she was there. He knew that this conversation needed to happen. Yet he could not shake the images of her pained features every time she saw his face. Did he really want to see her like that again?

The silver man cursed under his breath, hating himself for his cowardice. She needed to know what had happened, for clarity. The man nodded and took in a deep breath of cold air before taking a step forward.

"Qanik?" He stayed a few steps away from her den opening, allowing her the courtesy of her own privacy in waking.