The Sentinels Such a lonely day, and it's mine

His emotions were like the tide--sometimes he felt them, other times he didn't. In and out, in and out. It wasn't as if he went from happy to sad to happy again. . .it was more like there was excess, then there was a void.

Today, he felt the void.

Shale left the plateau to explore and to hunt around late afternoon, and found himself in a towering forest, so close to the sea you could smell the salt. The scruffy gray man meandered for a while, not picking up any scents of substance. Until he did.

She appeared soon after he smelled her. A strikingly white wolf, with unusually colored eyes--she looked like a snowbank, stark bright in the sun. She glowed in the darkness of twilight, and he blinked at her, fearing absurdly she might be a ghost. More specifically, the ghost of his wife.

Shale stood back, giving her a low chuff to announce his presence. "Who are you?" he called out, voice hoarse.