What is dead may never truly die

Walk | Talk | Think

Another soft whine whispered from her muzzle as she felt her husband's leg raise and curve around her, scooting closer still at his prompting. Oh, she had missed this so much. There were no words to describe how happy she felt to be with him again, to feel him beside her, to let his scent surround her, to hear her name spoken from his lips again. Tahlia had been so lonely without him, lost and detached, unable to see that there were others there willing to share in her grief, willing to help her if only she would ask. But she had always been a prideful creature, too proud to admit defeat, too proud to request assistance. She had chosen, instead, to suffer alone and let the pain eat up at her until it had become too much.

"Oh, I've missed you," she whispered back, feeling the soft rasp of his tongue against her head and offering a kiss of her own against his chest as she remained tucked against him, not wanting to move, never wanting to leave. But of course the reality of the situation could not stay away for long. He asked, gently, whether she would stay, and she drew back just enough to look up into his face with a somewhat dazed, perplexed look. It seemed an awfully funny question for a dream to ask. "If only it were so," she answered, her voice still surprised and confused, "I am dreaming, Bane. Any moment I could wake up and you will be gone again." She lowered her head again to press it against Bane's chest, wishing to soak up more of his memory before that time came.