having tasted a life wasted, i'm never going back
#3
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Geneva was not alone for long, but as she turned to greet the owner of the voice that had broken her silence, she was not unhappy. The gray woman was not a creature who withered in solitude; she gloried in the ability and the opportunity to sink into her thoughts. It was the way that she sorted things out, and she found it easier to make decisions and be at peace with decisions she had made. Geneva was a creature of analysis.

Bright lime green eyes came to settle upon the slightly haggard and definitely grumpy expression on Jefferson's face. She could tell that he was tired. It was nothing that she ever verbally acknowledged, but she knew that the one-eyed wolf had a hard time in the cold. She knew that he was often in pain; the cold must only intensify it for him. But she also knew that nothing she could say could keep her stubborn mate from completing his rounds, no matter how tired or hurt he felt.

"I'll have to re-double my efforts to elude you, then," she said, not without some humor in her voice. She smiled a small smile, a thin stretching of her lips. "Everything's fine," she added, only half paying attention to the words as her eyes slid away from his face. Perhaps two or three yards away there was a particularly tall tree whose branches fanned out, which made the snow beneath it relatively level.

"I'm tired," she said, and it wasn't completely a lie. She was feeling a bit light-headed because she had risen early and hadn't eaten, ignoring her appetite in favor of patrolling. The snow fall was fresh, and she had wanted to re-mark their boundaries and walk with her thoughts. She now felt the effects of the reduced energy. "Sit with me for a while?" she said, gesturing toward the shelter of the tree. It was the best way she could think of to make him rest a little. He tried to mask it, but she knew him better now, better than that. A little rest would do them both good.





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