You are the life that fills my lungs

She reached a paw forward slowly, as though afraid that he would vanish. The mist parting around her dark pad, stirring from the soft motion of it. Rising from the mist, like a phoenix from the ashes, as it cupped gently against Rhyme’s fur. Feeling solidness beneath her paw. Feeling him, for the first time that she had felt him in a lifetime. She could feel the rough softness of his coat, the age that clung regally to him. The way the sickness dragged at him, the hallows in his cheeks, and the listlessness to his eyes. “Ohh… my Rhyme.” she whispered softly. She could not tell if she cried from joy or sadness, for both mingled in her breast. Intense, and real, and undisquinishable. He was here before her, and he was dying.

“Lay beside me, Rhyme. Lay at my side one last time.” She whispered to the love that she had fought for, pushed away. Danced around, doubted, lingered, but most of all, had loved. Truly, and honestly, with every fibre of her being. Why had she spent so much of her life pushing him away?



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