Maris
For once in my life, I think things might actually turn out for the better.
And yes, I know I’ve already made that mistake before; believe me, I’m well aware, and I certainly remember all the pain and fear that came after. I’m hesitant to even think it again, let alone begin to believe it.
But there’s one big difference this time: Gray.
Every time I even consider things might go sideways, she seems to sense it, curling around me like some sort of fuzzy, cuddly snake. If she could crawl inside my skin, I’m entirely sure she would do just that.
All that being said, it makes it much harder to be sad or concerned with the future when I have a giant furry wolf that is determined to ensure I have everything I want from life.
If I think flowers are pretty, she finds some for me, which is no small feat considering how close it is to winter.
When I complained that my clothes were dirty, she brought me to a section of the cave where I could wash them, complete with soap, and waited with me while I worked; she also offered to help me wash them, but considering she has claws I didn’t think it was a good idea, not to mention the fact that she has never had to wear clothes and therefore never needed to know how to wash them.
But she’s more than happy to sit with me, which means something.
In other words, I now have a lover, partner, whatever you want to call her, that will do absolutely everything she can to make sure that I’m happy, that I have everything I want.
And that’s the problem.
Ever since I came here to live with Gray, there have been a few thoughts in the back of my mind about things I’m missing, little objects left behind in my old cottage that I’ve had my entire life.
I know I should be able to let them go, but some tiny part of my mind won’t allow me to forget them, and I can’t stop thinking about them.
So even now, when I’m realizing that I’m finally—for once in my life—happy in a place, and loved by someone, there’s still something missing.
And what’s worse is that I know that if I ask, Gray will get those things for me. It isn’t safe for either of us to go back to the village, but certainly not her,
She’d be killed on sight.
Me? I would also likely be killed on sight, although probably more slowly, since I’m not a threat like she is. Neither of us should go back. I know that, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
Gray grumbles softly, curling her long tail around me as she winds around me. She seems to be getting smaller these days, although I’m telling myself that it’s just my imagination; I’m worried that being with me is hurting her somehow, and that’s the last thing I want.
“What. Need?” Gray mumbles, tail swishing.
Her muzzle wrinkles almost immediately and she growls softly. We’ve been spending so much time together that it’s getting easier for me to read her expressions better, and this time the growl is frustration.
If I had to guess, I would say that she’s upset about choosing the wrong words, upset that she’s not speaking as clearly as she wants to.
I know she’s been working at it lately, doing her best to speak more clearly and concisely.
I don’t mind the short, monosyllabic responses, but if she wants to speak more clearly, I’m happy to help.
Besides, I like talking to her; it isn’t exactly a hardship. Plus, it’s been years since I’ve had someone to talk to, so I’m out of practice too. Our little chatter sessions at night in the cave are good for us both.
Gray licks my wrist gently, drawing me back from my thoughts.
I make a face, unsure how to answer the question. I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t know how I can tell the truth about what’s bothering me without her putting herself in danger for the items I want back from home.
I have to tell her.
I have to trust her, and find a way to get this out of my head before it eats me alive.
I sigh, scrubbing my fingers over my face before pinching the bridge of my nose. I have to tell her.
“There are some things I’d like from my cottage,” I say in a rush.
My cheeks burn as I turn away, unable to meet her eyes.
She’s going to think I'm a fool. “I know it’s ridiculous, but my mother’s locket is there.
A box of mementos, the last things I have of her.
I’ve been trying to tell myself that it doesn’t matter, but it’s hard. ”
Tears prick at my eyes, and I swallow hard. Having said it out loud, it’s even harder to forget the last remnants I have of my mother. But it would be silly to put ourselves in danger over something so trivial.
Gray whines softly and pulls me closer, muscles tightening as she pulls me into a hug.
I wind my fingers into her fur, soft and warm, and breathe her in.
Her scent is comforting, like pine needles and the heat of her fur, although I’m unsure how that has a smell.
But it does, and I breathe it in with every exhale.
“We will go,” Gray says slowly, and my eyes widen against her fur.
“But—”
“Will go together,” she says slowly. Every word is carefully chosen and spoken, and she pulls back only enough for me to see her face. “Will be safe together. Point me to what you need, and I will get it. You hide.”
I stare at her, lips parted, and her muzzle parts in a brief smile. Her muzzle seems different lately, smaller and flatter, more like a human face. I’m unsure if it’s just my imagination or if she’s actually changing, but it isn’t exactly my priority at the moment.
I’m still tempted to protest, but she’s already tugging me gently toward the cave opening, bustling around to gather things for our impromptu trip. She grabs a small basket and drops it into my arms, then snags a sweater for me to wear, muttering quietly to herself.
Apparently she’s decided that the sweater isn’t enough, because she trots back into the cave and returns with a ratty cloak.
I have no idea where she keeps hiding these clothing items, and I’m almost afraid to ask.
Not that I should be, considering I’ve seen firsthand just how hard she worked to make sure I have everything I could ever need, comb notwithstanding.
Even when she was fully a wolf, she must have been working for years to make everything perfect for me.
Frankly, it’s absolutely adorable and it also makes me wonder just how long she’s known that I’m her mate.
I haven’t exactly had the chance to ask, but I do want to know.
I make a mental note to ask her the next time we speak.
When she’s not preoccupied with trying to prepare me for what is really only a trip of a few miles, not that I don’t appreciate the thoroughness.
Gray plucks the small basket from my grip and lowers it to the ground, taking the sweater from my arms. She helps guide it over my head, and I sputter as I emerge from the fabric like a turtle from its shell.
“So I take it we’re going now,” I mumble, accepting her help in sliding the cloak around my shoulders. Her claws click together as she carefully ties it at the base of my throat. When she’s finished, she holds her paw out to me, an open invitation. She tugs me toward the entrance of the cave.
As much as I hate to say it, I am relieved that Gray is willing to go back to my village, never mind how foolish it is. I’m even confident enough, with enough pep in my step, to lead the way through the forest.
Honestly, the cave where Gray and I have been living isn’t all that far from the village where I grew up, which is ironic. This woman, wolf, creature, whatever you want to call her, has been this close to me my entire life. Years that we could have been together, if I’d only opened my eyes.
If only I’d seen her. Really looked at her.
Those thoughts roll around in my mind as we pick our path through the forest.
When Gray pushes back a leafy branch for me, I freeze. Tears well in my eyes, panic flooding my chest. And pain, deeper than the physical.
My heart aches.
My cottage, the home where I grew up, is in ruins. Smoldering slightly still, smoke curling in the cool air. There’s hardly anything of the structure still standing, leaning drunkenly like an old fool falling off his stool.
This trip was a waste. Everything I had
It’s gone.
Smudged out of existence.
Tears splash down my cheeks as I spin on my heel and run. My lungs burn. Branches whip against my skin as I sprint, rocks rolling under my feet as I stumble forward, tears blurring my vision.
I run until I feel my legs might give out, but I can’t stop. I flee back into the forest as if I can outrun the pain. Outrun my past.
Gasping for air, I scramble up the rocks, fingers digging into the stone to climb as instinct takes over.
And that’s where Gray finds me, curled up in our nest of blankets and sobbing uncontrollably. The stone floor digs into my tailbone as I rock back and forth, my arms clenched around my shins as I curl in on myself.
I need to make myself smaller so the bad things can’t find me, can’t hurt me.
My head is pounding almost as loudly as my heart, the pain of the sobs ricocheting up my throat and into my temples.
Gray whines softly as she settles next to me, opening her arms. She’s so close I can feel the warmth of her even if she’s not touching me, but it’s something I’m grateful for.
I want her touch, crave it so badly it’s another ache in my sobbing body, but she’s letting me choose whether I’m ready for her touch or not.
Fresh tears well so quickly I choke.
I want to be touched but moving feels like an insurmountable obstacle at the moment.
Instead, I just sort of let myself tip over to the side.
Gray grunts softly as I hit her arms and I’m almost offended, but it’s only a matter of seconds before she has me bundled into her lap, her muzzle buried in my throat as she snuggles me close.
There’s nothing sexual about it, only comfort, and I bask in the warmth and safety I feel in her arms. Nothing could ever hurt me here, and it’s easier to push thoughts of my burnt childhood home from my mind when I curl into her chest, her heartbeat pounding in my ear softly, lulling me back into the security she provides.
One thing is clear, if nothing else; this is the closest I’ve ever had, or will have, to safety.
To a home. To someone who loves me and will never leave me. This is love.
And I won’t let anyone threaten that.