Will You Accept My Love Again?

*Tahlia* · (This post was last modified: 08-13-2014, 09:02 AM by Tahlia.)

Walk | Talk
| Think

Three days. That was how much time had passed since the visit upon the border that had shattered the stability of Tahlia's world. For three days she had busied herself with pack duties, hunting, fishing, watching potential prey. She needed the consistency of it to focus on, to distract her from what had otherwise become a meager existence compared to how life had been before. For three days she had slept without the presence of her mate nearby. She had not known what to expect that second night when she had finally tried to return to their den, and finding it empty she had curled up inside to sleep, waking to find things just as when she had gone to bed. If the children noticed anything amiss she did not try to explain. If they asked, she would only offer a smile that was as much pleading as it was placating and assurances that there was nothing to worry about. And for three days she did not know the status of her own relationship with her husband - if he still considered himself that way at all.

That crucial bit of uncertainty had been, by far, the worst. Bane had been so angry with her, filled with such rage and malice, that he did not seem to have thought twice about bearing his weight on her and pinning her wholly against the ground. He had not held back in his verbal assault either, threatening her not only with his words but with the very sound of his voice. Whether he had intended to make good on everything he said she was glad to never know, though the cold lace of doubt made her wary of her own judgment. She had never suspected him capable of harming her, never thought he would turn on her at all, but he had. Would he again, when next he saw her?

Fear kept her away. Strangely it was not so much the physical violence that she feared most but simply knowing he was angry with her at all. For so long they had been on good standing with each other, maybe becoming irritated or frustrated but never to the point that things had reached on the border. She did not know just how deeply his anger ran or how long it would take for it to wane, and the uncertainty was slowly driving her mad. She wanted very much to confront him, to ask, beg, plead, whatever it took to know where she stood with him. At the same time, however, if he looked at her with even a hint of the expression he had worn at the border she knew she would fall apart. He may have hurt her but beneath the pain she still loved him, still wanted him in her life just the same as he always had been. If he wished to be done with her she would have been devastated.

So for two days and two nights after her return to work in Ebony she gave them both space, cowardly justifying her avoidance of him as necessary for them both. By the second day she could hardly bare being around his scent as it lingered within the territory, and that final night had been spent longing for his touch, wishing he would come to send her off to sleep with a goodnight kiss. By morning she had reached her breaking point. Whatever he felt for her, wherever their relationship intended to go from here, was better than this cowardly game of avoidance and false complacency that she was playing with herself.

She waited until the activities of the morning were fully underway before she slipped away on her own, searching and seeking out a quiet, secluded place for them to speak. Whatever happened, whatever was decided between them, she did not want eavesdroppers. Everyone would find out in good time. After finding the desired location - one that painfully reminded her of the place Bane had brought her at the beginning of winter - she made herself raise her muzzle and call to him, only him, quietly and anxiously. She was too nervous to sit, her tail and ears uncharacteristically low as was her overall posture, and so she stood, her tail fidgeting and her gaze staring about in search of the one she loved but feared would reject her.

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