Blacktail Deer Plateau hollow

in the face of her metamorphosis, he was quiet. he spoke of love and home. it was clear now; this was the only path forward. there was no place in the mortal world for a wolf who spoke only of spirits and death.

there was no place for the listener.

she sought her husband's touch, as she had so many times before. yet it was different. subdued. soft. feeling.

she was aware, for the first time, of her own fragility. it would not be the last.

these druids are yours, ingram. i am yours. the decision is yours, a ghost of a murmur on the wind, spoken close to his ear. no other knows me as you do; none will. you know my place here.

it was only left for him to speak it.