Journal Entry 3
Zaskja Stormsson
My Wolf,
Thirteen moons have risen and fallen since I walked into the longhouse with my satchel of journals.
Tonight, I will slip one more inside. The one on which I’m writing this final entry.
Tonight, I will walk to your home before I head to the longhouse to celebrate Júl.
Tonight, I will dare to leave this bag full of my deepest, darkest secrets on your cot, because I cannot contain my heart another year, Nordin.
I cannot endure one more Myrknótt lying alone in bed, biting nails that will never become claws, wondering if this is the year you’ll come home with a mate.
I understand that choosing me won’t stop Fenrir from eventually mating you, but perhaps, once you read how deeply I love you, you’ll choose me always?
If only I had even a sliver of your sister’s confidence so I could show you what you mean to me. But I’m nervous…and afraid that catching you unawares will send you running for the Wilds, given how much you dislike surprises.
The same way you dislike unnecessary rowdiness, henbane users, the Ravine Clan, vampyrs, dragons, and Tyron. Do I know you, or do I know you?
With every breath, heartbeat, and aching piece of my soul,
Zas