Just What the Doctor Ordered

“At peace” he explained, and it was true, to an extent. He would always have responsibility, and stress, but that was just life. The issue of his dreams seemed quelled, and he rarely dreamed at all these last few days. When he did, it was simply that, a dream. Whatever had fueled it to be life-like and threatening was depleted. Wasted away by Io’s careful consideration and attention. No more did he wake, thrashing, wondering which way was up or down.

A part of him questioned if it would be permanent, only for how powerfully they had plagued him before Io had come along. For the moment, he was content to believe that it had actually worked. Reliving the dream in his waking time, had calmed it in his sleeping. “And you, Io, how are you?” he glanced in the direction of the hill, he knew that Io had been spending a great deal of time working on the little cottage she would call home, and had offered his own help from time to time. When he wasn’t working on his den, the obelisk that sat beside her fire, with the pack-rules clearly etched into its surface, or the traps he had laid about the pack in the event that war ever came to them.