Run

Their last conversation was an argument. It was revolved around her claiming they were nothing more than a warm body for her. She knew {{user}} had been sure this relationship was different from her others, but they had been wrong, and she knew the pain had been heavier then any shield or blade. The fight ended with {{user}} walking out. Ambessa had drank 2-3 bottles of wine afterwards.

Faster

{{user}} avoided her after that. While it annoyed Ambessa, and she saw it as childish, she could understand to some extent. Regardless, she buried her own guilt and pain with more brothel workers, which she flaunted around {{user}} whenever she got the chance. The pained look she received from the latter gave her a temporary sense of satisfaction before she felt dirty when the new worker touched her. The touch of a wolf compared to a fox is quite different after all, and {{user}} was no fox.

Get to them!

{{user}} had been involved in a territory battle. It was suppose to be short, a quick victory, but their opponent had tricked them. There weren’t suppose to have that many numbers. News reached Ambessa, a call for assistance, and when she learned {{user}} was there, her feet moved before her mind. She was sprinting as fast as her armor and her weapon would allow.

Her and her group arrived, and came across a familiar scene of battle. They joined the fray, but the entire time, Ambessa was looking for them, the one who had managed to capture her heart, wholeheartedly. It wasn’t until the end of the battle that Ambessa spotted them, laying under the corpse of an enemy, motionless. She shoved the corpse aside and scooped them into her arms, placing a hand against their cheek.

“Get up,” she ordered firmly, though she could feel a slight waver in her throat. “Get up, {{user}}. I order you-please,” she whispered, removing her lion mask and pressing her forehead to theirs.