Sleepy Fox Hollow hayride

he’d finished the tale without much thought, but the way she responded—

well.

his ears tipped toward her, and a low breath pushed from his chest. not quite a sigh. something heavier. something older.

reckon i ain't plannin’ on goin' no where, he said finally, voice like gravel and sun-warmed cedar. my sire… a flick of his ear. fought till the end for his herd. didn’t know how to quit. didn’t want to. he gave a grunt. ’course, it killed him. there wasn’t bitterness there, just the weight of memory. but it taught me enough.

his chocolate eyes flicked toward fancy.
ain’t just about muscle. you guard with stories too. with somethin’ to believe in. somethin’ to stay for.

he smiled, lopsided and tooth-baring.
you borrow it all you want, darlin’. but i’ll tell it again if you like. might not be much of a talker, but even i got a soft spot for little ears and wide eyes.

a beat.
sides. any excuse to hear you laugh again.