Firefly Glen Caledonia

Her song would fade, and yet before she could place her muzzle down upon outstretched forepaws once more, a more garbled cry gave her pause, and her heart felt as if it had sprung in to her chest. The absolute urgency in his cry paralyzed her – did apparitions sound so desperate? Would her mind trick her so far.

Only when she began to hastily pull herself up did he emerge before her, and she stared at him, swallowing, her throat dry. He moved to her – his form lower to appease her, ears flattened, tail swinging low. Her eyes remained riveted upon him, and at first she missed the cloudiness of his eye, so entranced was she that he had found her. He had, against all odds, once more found her.

Her petite form was up then, and while their prior reunion had her careen in to his chest without consideration, this time she was hesitant, and her nose would reach out, her form quivering as it trailed along his cheek. Only then did she see the blindness that had been given to him – and she felt a surge of anger at the Caldera once more. “I thought you were dead, Shrike,” her voice murmured, the emotion within it causing the tremble of her words.

Tentatively, she reached her muzzle out, pressing her face firmly in to the thick fur of his nape and inhaling sharply. “Never again. Never again will we be separated.” She didn’t care that she sounded like a crazy girlfriend. She couldn’t bear enduring that again.