Wapun Meadow boy made of ash and a honey soaked dawn

the stillness doesn't last forever, a peace the two men can scarcely hold on to nowadays. they'd departed before the morning sun had began its slow ascent; the travel quiet but not unpleasant. there wasn't a need to fill the quiet with chatter. 

dolce's steps were heavy, tired. the bags beneath his eyes wearing the truth of his exhaustion and turmoil. rala was gone; a bitter truth that twisted the knife all the deeper. a voyage that was meant for their honeymoon left to ruins with her disappearance. 

she'd simply been there one morning, tucked safely against his side, her head resting upon her back. but when he awoke she was no where to be found. the only marker a fading scent trail that dolce scoured for what felt like days. 

her absence left a hole in his heart, an ache in his chest, and a bitterness on his tongue. he would not talk about it, about her; it was too painful. he was grieving the memory of her. 

but duty does not allow time to grieve or to rest. he found his place alongside tvar, hoping that the patrol would ease his mind for just a moment or two. and it had, before that feral snarl rang through the morning mist.

he meets tvar with a scowl. shoulders roll and pop, muscles tense, posture squares. he had no fucking patience for a pack of coyotes, but they offered a cruel closure. a way for him to expel the pain and ache inside of him in a violent manner. 

"let's get this fuckin' done." he rumbled. head swinging forward as the pack of mangy mutts flood from the underbrush. there are many. dolce welcomes them with a snarl, before he's barreling forward to crash against a pair of them.