Swiftcurrent Creek Narrow streets of Cobblestone

It was hard for Ashlar to explain.  He considered it for a moment.  The pause.  It’s part of the sound.  The stillness just made the sound of the storm that much more impressive. It was the waiting of it combined with the energy of the air. That much suspense couldn’t be entirely silent.

He was smitten. Ashlar nodded quickly at the other wolf, invitation, then ducked some as he realized shyly how the enthusiasm might look. I’d like that.

Those were so many things to love and he said it so easily. Suddenly Ashlar’s list seemed small by comparison. He felt shame again, knowing that many of the things he truly loved he pretended not to, saying it was for their own sake. He wasn’t sure he believed this anymore.

I love deer. The way herds run. And the sound of fall leaves. D... my dad too. And mama. I miss them. But I love Avicus too. This last part he said softer, though it applied to the Rise as well. It was a different sort of love, devotion that ran deeper than most others. Not even he knew fully what it meant other than that her home was his. He’d promised that a long time ago and nothing had changed.