Finding what is lost

It wasn't fair.
She walked quickly in his trail toward the forge and blacksmith's workshop. Her life had never been fair, why would it be anywhere near fair now? They swallowed the distance across the Col and busied themselves with looking for clues. She was grateful for the distraction.

Her eyes scanned the debris. Some trinkets here and there were familiar, but most of it was not. Her eyes meandered, but somehow she couldn't take anything in. As if her eyes couldn't focus on what was in front of her. She picked up the drawn design she left with Charlie for him to base his pins on and there were a few scorch marks on it as if from some errant embers. She put it down and let her eyes try and focus on the forge but they kept magnetizing themselves to his titanic muscular back, had she never noticed how the charcoal of his fur was broken by the smattering of blues and seafoam greens. Like blue and green flames licked each hair follicle and rippled over his muscles. Some of his blue was almost purple and the marks at the end of his tail and back toes seemed to be dipped in the hottest of blue-green flames turned white.

She shook her head once and drew in a breath, willing her eyes to focus on the cold forge. Maybe he had left his current project within it? She took one of the pokers and looked absently through the ashes of the forge. If a white wolf and a black wolf had children, would they be grey like the ashes? Or would they come out black or white?