Totoka River waltzing the waves, diving the deep

The weight of failure hangs heavy on the Gampr’s broad shoulders. He holds himself personally responsible for Doe’s death – he was her leader, he should have provided better for her, kept better track of her somehow, done something different. And once he had been able to coax Seelie from her mourning, he had led her inwards to the depths of the island (because he was not about to let the sheepdog from his sight, lest something happen to her as well) to survey what may or may not be accessible to the Undersea wolves in regards to prey animals for the winter to ensure no others met the same fate. When they returned from their scouting mission, the few wolves that had remained before were gone. Another failure. Another loss. Another weight pulling him down.

Without the strength of a pack behind them to prepare for winter the Armenian had convinced the elegant sheepdog to follow him to the mainland. Hopefully small prey would be more plentiful, and they would be able to find suitable wintering grounds. It has been a long time since the Gampr has had to face winter without the comfort of a human structure to retreat to when he desired. And as he walks with Coelacanth along the banks of the Totoka he feels a pang of regretful longing for the Man and the life he led with him. If it were not for Seelie, Stockholm would most likely trek out of the Teekon Wilds to find humankind again. At his core, he is more dog than wolf. But not even desire for the familiarity of that life would make him abandon the lithe silhouette who walked beside him now. Fate had woven their paths together, and he would walk beside her until death took him from this plane of existence. No other worldly force could take him from her.

A soft, gentle whisper of a whine pulls him from his thoughts and his paws still in the sand as Seelie presses her body against his chest and contorts herself in a manner that strikes him as both feline and serpentine all at once. He dips his head, burying his nose in the feathery soft fur behind her ear and chuffs softly. I am yours, you are mine. I will always love you.

He nibbles gently at the silky strands of fur there before withdrawing suddenly, stepping back and to the side, cold water splashing up around his paws as he drops into a play bow, tail arching up in a tight curl over his back – for a moment, the weight threatening to drag him under is gone, and she is all that exists in his world, and he wants nothing more than to make her happy. Dance with me.