I've Walked With You, Once Upon A Dream

Fern had wanted to spare the winged wolf the pain of learning about Meadow’s death in front of others but that one word that slips past her tongue. It is natural to speak of the deceased in past-tense and, her mother has been gone so long. Heck, the gray grey can’t remember the last time she spoke about Meadow in the present tense. Still, when she sees the physical reaction that Mortis has to the simple was Fern cannot help but feel like she has slapped him across the face. A heavy weight settles in her chest, choking her with emotion and causing her to feel as if she drowning on dry land. Still, she numbly leads the way toward where the sunflowers await, wanting… no… needing to explain Meadow’s absence to the tender-hearted-boy that filled so many of her mother’s stories.

They arrive and sit together, Fern watching the flowers as she is unable to meet his eyes. She talks in halting, emotion-filled gasps, fighting to hold off the shuddering sobs that want to take hold. When she finally pry’s her gaze away from the happy faces of the sunflowers, she gazes into the winged-wolf’s eyes with a tremulous smile on her lips. Fern remembers dreaming about what it would be like to have a friend with wings. How soft and luxurious the feathers might feel and how she would hide under them whenever she had a chance. So, as she feels the gentle wing wrap around lightly around her, the gray girl instinctively moves closer to Mortis’s side, allowing a sudden feeling of safety envelope her. He speaks of Meadow and she listens to his kind words as few more tears fall down her pale cheeks.

Then Mortis speaks of her mother charming the birds from the trees and a small, feeble laugh is pulled from the gray girl. The word cousin lightens her heart and she offers him a bigger smile that pulls her lips tight as she wistfully thinks of what might have been. Looking up to Mortis, Fern softly says, “I am glad to meet you cousin Mort. You know, mom told me so many stories about you. ‘The kind boy with wings’. That is what she called you. And the story of how you two met Rigel was always my favorite bedtime story. I do have to ask a question. Can you really sing like a bird?” The heaviness that had settled over the gray girl lifts as she speaks of the happy memories of Meadow. The tears no longer fall as she leans into his side and they talk.

A breeze ruffles her fur and causes the sunflowers in front of the pair to bob, making it appear as if they are laughing with joy along with them. Right then, Fern knows that Meadow sent the breeze and is laughing along happily from wherever she is.


"Fern Lark"