Fairspell Meadow If the heavens ever did speak

The moment was so pure, Semira barely noticed her own joy. That is, until she noticed the absence of all of her negative emotions. It was like waking up from a particularly bad dream and finding that everything was still the same as it was before the dream occured. Without happiness, everything was bitter; wind was freezing, rain was depressing. The emotion dared her to bring forth different feelings – better feelings.

The happiness, it seemed, was infectious. It caused at tingle all the way down to her paws – much like anxiety, but far more pleasing. It flooded through her like a river into small streams, allowing her a moment of blissful elation where she merely stared in wonder at the wolf before her.

He was truly here. In a random meadow, she had found him.

She watched as the recognition clicked in Horosk’s amber eyes, the eyes she had become so fond of.  A slow smile tilted her maw upwards, a shaky laugh escaping. For a second, she nearly thought she had mistaken a poor stranger for her… her what? She allowed herself only a moment to ponder their relationship. What it was, or even, what it possibly had been. Perhaps he did not want her anymore.

Perhaps the disbelief in his voice implied that she should not be here. Her eyes went upwards towards the heavens – unable to meet his. The fae’s chest heaved a sigh in the form of a slumping movement, her chest collapsing on itself. When her eyes fell downwards she found herself attempting to read exactly what is was running through his mind, to no avail.

“Horosk,” She breathed his name this time, her maw parting slightly. It was heavier than the first time, her voice laden with unspoken questions. She wanted to curl up into his side, simply just to be as close to him as possible. She nearly chuckled at her own impulses. The fae’s muzzle then parted into a small smile, her voice curving into a gentle tease, “Funny seeing you here, stranger.”