Fox's Glade my knees are cold

dolce often found himself returning to the glade where he'd found his dove. the woman who was single-handedly tearing him apart and piecing him back together, molding him into something better. worthy. because, with all the time's he'd walk that same path, one thing had become clear; he wanted to be the man she deserved. with her, there was a greater purpose. 

a future that, for once, didn't feel so unattainable. but with that came the question; what does that future entail? a marriage, a bond, a family? all things that a past version of himself would've scoffed at, as men like himself didn't go on to live happy ever afters.

 they die a gruesome death, get buried somewhere in the desert to rot and whither away. left to become nothing but a blip and buzzard food. no legacy. 

with whelping season around the bend, his thoughts naturally drifted towards children. he'd never thought about starting a family before, because that wasn't something outlaws did. but there's a chance now, with rala. and it terrifies him. 

on one of those walks, he'd found her. laying on her back, staring up at the bare tree tops. she was enough to chase the ghosts and doubts out of his mind, if only for just a while. for a moment he just watched from a distance, that warmth in his eyes that was meant just for her. 

and then he made his way closer, until he was standing before her. "look as pretty as a picture, rala." with a soft rumble, he lowered his head to graze his nose across her cheek. "what'chu doin' out here?"