Maybe she loves me, Maybe she doesn't

She would hold him close, like he would slip away the moment she loosened her grip. She would close her eyes as Themisto pushed his features to her fur. Her own tears mixing with his as he fought for control. Twig knew something was wrong, she could feel it. And in those few moments she would enjoy his frail presence, blissfully unaware of the intense reality. Slowly his words would come, and the awful truth would come to light. Her fears realized. She would gasp, a moment of silent would follow her reaction before she pulled Themisto's frame ever closer. Finding herself immersed in the folds of his fur the she wolf would hold off her breakdown, not believing it could be true. "No." she would shake her head while still clinging to his form. "No.. No, no, no.." the soft syllables would be repeated into the side of his neck, all of her willpower focusing on making it not real. This wasn't happening. Themisto wasn't sick and certainly wasn't dying. No, she couldn't loose him now. No. "No... There has to be something I can do. Please." she would lose her words to the sobs that would overtake her. "You can't leave me too." a hoarse whisper would escape her tightened throat. No, this was not happening.?