The gorgeous Misha decided to depart; her telling of it pierced Sel?s heart. He had said ill-fated goodbyes to many a wolf and he felt that this would be one. He wouldn?t lay his eyes on hers again. Her beauty would never be his to know. The warmth she brought him, the hope she offered: it would all soon be nothing except a memory. She smiled and he presented one back to her, frail and fake. Her body detached from his and she left, his golden eyes on her form the entire time until he could no longer discern wolf from shadow or creature from tree. The lake glistened, the liquid beneath its ice whispering love to the quixotic white wolf. He laid his head on his paws, recollecting his thoughts for a moment. He raised his head.
?I love you!? he called after the long-gone fae.
His words were eaten by the silence and growing dread in his stomach.
