Blacktail Deer Plateau sick love is my modern cliche

he was drifting slowly into sleep, his own eyelids fluttering, but her words kept him at least somewhat anchored to reality, and he smiled, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "i'm very glad, too," aditya murmured. "my mother said that everything is fated to happen--even her leaving me. so i was meant to come here. . .and to stay."

stayed he had. spring was just around the corner, and aditya still resided within morningside's borders. even though he had come here with the idea of resting and recuperating from his adventure with the sea, thinking he'd leave in a couple of moons. he supposed he had dawn to thank. . .but he often wondered if he would have remained here, regardless of her love.

he liked to think he would have.

"have i told you about the great beach race?" aditya asked blearily. without waiting for a response, he forged on, yawning intermittently throughout. "well, every summer, the fastest wolves in all the land gather on the southern coast, on this huge white beach, for a race. whoever wins the race gets the prize--usually a big kill they could take home to their family--and, of course, bragging rights. well, one summer, my friend nando. . ."

and it was good, in that den, the two siblings by marriage, their voices gentle music in the dim light.