why are there so many sad threads :C
Anann had not yet returned home. She was a free woman and could do as she pleased, but the man was still worried for her well being. Keese was good and dead, rotting where he had been slain. But the fear for the woman was still there, especially so soon after she had returned to him and the kingdom. What could he do other than worry for her safety? But she wanted her independence as much as he wanted his solitude. Not to say he wanted solitude from her, no, but she wanted to do her own thing without him holding her hand for every damn thing. Anatoliy respected that, quite a lot, but he still felt the need to seek her out. But he did not do so actively; she was probably wary of anyone who would try to 'track' her.
He tried the stable first and found no one there, but the horses and the stable hands. Her scent was here, but her body was absent. The scent that lingered smelled as off as it had the day he took her from the shack. Now, he knew well what it was and the thought of that man doing what he had still made his blood boil. But for Anann, he said nothing; if she wanted to talk about it, she would. Oh, but how it haunted him. He knew what grew in her. He could not blame the seed for the sins of the tree, nor would he do the same for the children born of Keese's seed. They need not even know who their father was.
The cabin was his second choice. There was little else to look; Anann rarely went elsewhere. And this was a remnant of the old days, the days of them being happy with just each other. So, he headed there, and found her scent grew stronger as he approached it. She was here, and he felt relief sooth the anger and fear in his chest. Would he ever feel safe? Would she? He slipped into the cabin he helped to build and saw her laying on their bed. Without a word or invitation, Anatoliy sat himself down beside her on the bed, elbows on his thighs. He wanted to talk about the progeny in her belly, but found he had no words to give.
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