Wheeling Gull Isle you've still got a little lightning in you

Once her shoulders relaxed, the tension that had been holding her body upright seemed to dissipate. Doe slumped against her Shadow, tail whisking tiredly as she struggled to keep her legs underneath her. A soft whine of appreciation squeezed out from between white bone and yellow teeth, and tiny pinpricks of heat began to grow at the corners of her eyes.

I missed you, she wanted to say, but she couldn't speak past Szymon. Even if she could, Doe didn't know if that would be appropriate. She didn't know how long she'd been here, or even where here was. Had months past? Had years? Time escaped her, these days.

She nosed helplessly at the wolfdog's nape, attempting to return the affection that she was being given so freely. Szymon got in the way, but she doggedly refused to release the comforting weight. She had a terrible fear that, if she put him down, she would lose him.