Lost Creek Hollow my light

ghaden.

ghelan.

two boys failed. one son lived, born into chaotic arms with cen's angered voice overhead. the pieces of love present had been lost in the splintered bitterness between two opposites. love. love. he knew not its form nor its nature, but wordless in his spirit was its fierce nature.

morwenna did not speak for the lives of the children yet to be born; she asked only for his heart. "yes," he said hoarsely, untethered by the question for its unexpected sound. "i will love them. but they will walk with us. with saatsine," and headlong he fell into the dreaming, the cadence of the future.

he had no right to embrace the fantastic images that a third time might be the final, the lasting, and yet they warmed him.

quietly he wondered how the sun wolves would accept her, but it did not matter. if she stood at his side as wife, there would be no dissent he could hear, such was his belief.

perhaps he did not deserve that either.

quietly he let slip those few inches of space still between he and she, lightly lowering his chin over the crown of her head if she allowed; all the while his tail swung to and fro, a dominant flare, a welcome. a possessiveness. breath ruffled tiny hairs at the base of one ear. "what i need to take you from here?"

he would give what was asked. but she had not spoken of a father nor even brothers; he knew nothing about her, and she knew nothing of him save what he called himself and this bloodied way of his people — thrilling in that, to be only sun eater as he stood beside her now.