In the end, everything turns to dust. Sorne stood in front of the ashes of her tent, trying to feign indifference while her heart withered and crumbled like an autumn leaf. It hurt more than it should. There were no items of worth here. Nothing monetarily valuable, no family heirlooms, no childhood toys. She had only what the wolves had managed to create in the three years they had been here, and while they had done well for themselves, there was nothing they had that could be considered precious. Items are nothing, all things considered. But love? Oh, love is everything and when it is torn from your being everything hurts. Always and at all times.
The ashes were just Sorne's life now. Four nights before she had watched the man she once loved run off with an exotic beauty with hair like
