ooc:
Whatever poetic renditions of forgiveness his ears hoped to behold her lips could not yet form. Her disposition had long since gone away from anger and had adopted hurt in its stead. Pure unrelenting with only the call of her more feral mind to bring her comfort in the whispers of the lupine blood coursing through her veins, easing her mind and heart to peace. Despite his apology, the force that drove her actions could not yet bring her lips to utter her understanding and let the instances of the past reside there, to the past.
Instead she graced the tip of his muzzle with a fleeting lick as she drew her head from him and slipped the whole of her form back down into the warmth of the den. “You need rest,” she repeated, acknowledging again his pitiful injured state before seeking the comfort of the furred and scantly feathered bedding. She had relinquished too much energy to change back down to a more comfortable form and was forced to crawl on her hands and knees to the bed. The soft kempt hair of the marten and fox furs pulled her down again into their luxurious folds. She pulled her favored elk hide from its recess above the bedding and threw it over her chilled from, delving into an even deeper state of warmth to lull her back to sleep.
Yet as she began to drift again, her sluggish form inched to one side of the bedding though with her front turned toward the earth wall. “You need rest,” she uttered quietly again though through her actions her words were better fit for herself than her mate. “…not the command… of your alpha…” her voice as well as her taxed mind began to drift til her words faded to a whisper. “… but of your mate.”
And again, she was asleep.