Lost Creek Hollow lions in winter

Adeline blinks a few times, expression unmoving for several seconds as the realization sets in. Her ears lower against her head and splay back, grinding her jaw together. It feels familiar and her heart lurches up into her throat to reveal a hole in her chest months old that is nothing more than scar tissue. Having forgotten causes a chill to roll down her spine and she looks down at the ground.

“You can’t see me?” she says, her voice strained against the force to shove it back down. His confession seems to contradict one sentence to the next as she tries to process what she’s been given. If he doesn’t even know what she looks like now, what will it be in the future? “How can you… just…” she struggles for the right words, “not see?” She hadn’t understood the importance of it those few months ago and had only been concerned with herself and how she felt and now he isn’t going to be able to see anymore?

He’d gone, she reminds herself, but for nothing.