Overture Downs No matter where I sleep

You are haunting me.

She sprang upwards within the cramped hollow, Kavik's name falling from her lips. The walls disoriented her at first for they were not the familiar stone of The Door but the tangled roots of a rotting tree she had sheltered in for the night. 

Even with the dead leaves piled around her, it was dreadfully cold - seemingly more so without Kavik's bulk beside her. A lump rose in the healer's pale throat, which she attempted to swallow as she clambered clumsily from the makeshift den. The sprite wasn't yet accustomed to the complete loss of her leg. 

Stumbling to the edge of the inviting brook, she collapsed on its edge in exhaustion. Her gaze was drawn to the water as it bubbled merrily, seemingly oblivious to the broken-hearted she-wolf on its banks. The ripples spilled like spun silver over the stones in the moonlight, an enchanting sight. 

Stars twinkled overhead, though Liri could not bring herself to look at them. It would only be a reminder to what a relief the spirit realm would seem - to leave this world behind for the blissful ignorance of death. 

Most days it didn't seem like such a bad option. Her sister was there, as were her children. 

Liri was a soft, kind-hearted creature but she was not accustomed to giving up. She had an iron core - she was made of survival, persistence, resilience. The abandoned wife had suffered worse, on more than one occasion. 

This was not half as bad, her optimistic side argued. 

Half as bad is more than good enough. 

The thought came unbidden as her eyes lifted across the welcoming glade - frosted white under the moon. 

Liri wondered, if she were to howl her grief to the night - would it reach the Creek?