you lint licker

She had run from Crucifix's land, pushing against the snow banks to rush to their old home. Tears still fell down her face, freezing to her black marked muzzle. She didn't know what to think, nor what to feel. A shaky breath left her frame as she ducked and dived, paws growing weary from the run. It was hard, the ground had grown solid with the cold and it was a shock to her aging joints. Othello just wanted to slip into a hot spring right now, or to curl up and cry. But no, Scorpion was calling for her and she would not abandon him. His call was urgent, a tone that he had never really used with her. This made her feel more and more guilty about what had just transpired. Could she face him while she stunk of another man? She knew how she felt when he came home smelling of others.

All thoughts left her as she came to a skidding halt outside of their once shared den. She flinched at how stale her own smell had become, but poked her head in regardless. She saw him there, and her eyes were directed to the already festering wound on his leg. Purple eyes flew wide as she gasped, falling to his side as a cry slipped from her maw. "What happened?" She whispered, digging her nose into his scruff. Her tears that had been falling before did not stop, she saw how much pain he was in. This was her fault, all her fault. She should have just stayed with him, should have never left his side. If she had only been here she could have fought off whatever had happened to him, to make all the bad things go away. But she couldn't lose him. Oh gods this wasn't going to kill him, was it? She couldn't bare to lose him, not after having lose everything else. The woman began to go into hysterics, her breathing shallow and rugged as she tried to keep calm. No, she couldn't lose him. The fates couldn't be that cruel, could they?