Wheeling Gull Isle solitude

she came and he said not a word.

only looked to her with warmth and the knowledge that she was steadfast. more so than perhaps anyone else in his life had ever been.

she shared knowledge with him. then he knew he must speak.

that's three of us.

he could not bring himself to verbalize those who had left him. them.

we can make it through winter, into the spring, i think.

an ugly pain burned his chest — a thing that only was allowed to live briefly as suddenly the sound of a howl pierced the breeze. that of a voice he did not know.