Shadowwyn Moor It came gently calling

She had more thoughts than he had even considered, and when he looked to the fallen trees and saw them from her perspective, he saw them with those repeated words: hopeful, hopeful.

He knew the repetition was on in her stutter - but the echo drove the feeling even deeper than when she'd first said the word.

I see how the trees on the moor fell because they had no one around them, and I see how the trees in the copse are still standing because they had each other to help weather the storms. The strength of family, of our packs. But, he paused to look over the moor again, I think I like your thoughts better, and he gave a sideways grin, though I wouldn't say it made the trees out there seem very wolfish in the way I was thinking.

Hopeful. Hopeful. No, she'd given him new thoughts entirely, and his brow furrowed as he considered again. Which tree do you think you are? On both our definitions, and he smiled at her with another sheepish splay of his ears, I do very much like yours.