Misty
Two white wolves in a clearing.
Their bodies made of mist and aether, standing side by side.
Mates. A marvel of second chances and extraordinary fate.
Two white wolves turn toward the sunrise knowing what they must leave behind; what he sacrificed for those he loved and her refusal to let him go into death alone.
Two white wolves stand over their earthly bodies. He, battered and still.
She, going into death with eyes open, cupping her mate's face between her graceful hands, her eyes locked on his at the moment of her dying breath.
Their last words had been simple. I love you.
They always had.
They’d promised this instance in stolen moments, in private corners, when there was nothing but the stars to light their way.
I will not stay here without you.
I will not le
