Qeya River Sing for the hill

He did not bear her weight- to bear was too cold and empty a word. For her to rest against him was a silent promise, and a willingness to be vulnerable, and to share the burden of stress, injury, and trauma. He gratefully received her against his side, and allowed his heart to beat like a fledgling's wings. 

He dipped his head, so he could rest it across her forelegs, and so she could rest her head upon his neck where the fur was plush; a pillow for her chin. He exhaled heavily, and thumped his tail against the ground in a gentle echo of his heart, which had finally begun to return to a normal tempo.