Journal Entry 17
Zaskja Stormsson
My Wolf,
I think I’m going insane.
Let me preface this by saying: I am SO happy, Nordin. You’ve given me everything I could ever have dreamed of—love, safety, a feeling of belonging, hope… So this weight on my heart makes no sense. Yet for the life of me, I can’t shake it.
I’ve spent the entire day stripping the opals you gave me of their host rock and revealing their beauty, a process that usually fills me with excitement and awe.
Awe came, but not the excitement. Or at least, it didn’t wash away the forbidding feeling that someone is about to pull the rug from underneath us.
Perhaps it’s because Tyron got away.
Perhaps it’s because we’ve yet to come out to the pack, and I sense disgust will be the prevailing emotion. Mostly because people see me as Eira’s true daughter.
Are we really telling everyone tonight? I feel like I’m going to be sick. I almost wish you’d broadcast it over the pack link immediately so I don’t have to be present when you inform them. Does that make me a coward?
I hope my overactive imagination is to blame.
If only Mor would come home from the Vale Valley already. I need her reassurance and support to rid me of my gnawing, festering unease.
I just heard the door!
I love you, Nordin.
If you ever read this, please know that the only thing I’m certain about in this world is our love for each other.
Yours beyond Ragnarok,
Zas