Altar of Twilight it's strange what desire will make foolish people do

She did not resist his touch; it was something she idly longed for without truly knowing it, and leaned toward him with a quiet, content sigh. These moments with him were so many different things when they came; today, here and now, brought peace. The snows had returned to them, but Hydra held her tongue for a brief time as she settled next to him, thoughtful and silent up until he spoke again. 

He came, knowing he would find her. Looking for her. These two things by themself were not so unusual. Did they not seek one another, perhaps more frequently than a rogue wolf and a pack wolf ought to? They found themselves time and time again together; it was not something her path would permit her to resist, and it was not something she wanted to, either, independent of her visions of grandeur she dreamt of. 

Hydra's turned to look at him fully, her eyes beholding him. He was a majestic man, but the thickness of his winter fur brought an even more regal look to the kingly Dirge. Her blue eyes shifted to his own, and Hydra's voice was full of hope as her nose pressed gingerly against his chin in a show of affection: stay with me, she breathed, and dared to think that he might wish to.