Silvertip Mountain Your face-saving promises, whispered like prayers

His heart fluttered limply, like a butterfly drowning in tears. Mason found each step seemed to jar his body. Despair appeared to have damaged each bone and muscle he owned. When a voice called from behind, Mason faltered and almost fell. He caught his own weight on his numb front paws and turned to see a huge black wolf approach. His tone was gentle, kind, and Mason gravitated towards it like a moth to a flame.

He stepped towards the wolf and peered up at him through sleep-shattered eyes which were bloodshot and dull. "He took her an' now I've got no one." He muttered hoarsely. This was a lie, because he still had June, but in his doomed mind he preferred the concept having no one. It made him more pitiable and maybe this wolf would give him some sorely-needed comfort. Mason blinked and continued to look up at this wolf, carefully avoiding his deep soulful brown eyes for fear of causing offense, and lowering his tail appropriately. It appeared he had retained some of his sense - for now at least.