Honeyed Pasture Abandoned but not forgotten

you don't know how long I've been waiting for this!

The ocean awakened Embry that morning, but it's rhythm seemed oddly offbeat today. Move. Move you idiot. That's what it seemed to be telling him, and yet... why? His emerald orbs flickered out across the sea. All day he had done this: stared with a frown at his childhood friend, listening to the wind buffet his thick, fur of honey — now cast bronze by the evening light. 

In the midst of his stupor, the young man decided it was time to explore the rest of his newfound home. The coast was a large and sprawling place. Surely there was more beauty than just along the strand, astounding though it was. Plus, he needed time to think. It seemed that today, of all days, the ocean was finally digging that lone thorn in his side: the one that had been nagging at him since... 

He shook his head; forced his large paws into motion away from the foamy shore. His large frame ambled in this way until, with the ocean somewhat muted behind him, a scent settled upon his palette. So familiar... so painful... Yes, he might not be physically ailed, but phantom pains did not spare him. She had been a part of him; of who he was. Even now, his first love - the ocean - told him of it. 

That's when he spotted her: a bird along the skyline. His mind told him, no, it can't be her, but his heart was alive again — alive and tapping away in that long-forgotten tattoo. He drew himself to full consciousness, willing his doubts to persuade him against such fleeting hopes as this. Manifest before him, the girl he stole. But the girl he never should have given back. And was she... hurt?

It lifted upon his lips like warm, soothing water. Feyre. And then, as she stood, there it came again, a whisper now, "Feyre..," until he could only run. The brute looked like a bear hurtling forwards, racing through the lemony strands faster than ever he had before. And when he reached her, he couldn't stop his old self — the closer he got, the more his doubts melted away. The more he needed her again. And he halted there, only pawsteps away, panting with those wide, cow-like orbs of sea-green. Words failed him.