Moonstone Quarry I won't let you go, I feel it in my bones

She met his gaze fully, her vulnerability bared before him. He stepped closer, sure and steady, very much unlike the way her heart rattled and raged in her chest. Breath hitched as he spoke, his timber rumbling through her as the last of them inspired her to move.

hope is a risk. so is trust. so am i

And so, she dared. She took the risk her heart and her mind have been warring with since he found her that mist-filled morning. The wind stirred, an urging for her storm to meet his immovable shore. He was worth the risk.

And she reached for him.

Her eyes did not leave his as she moved, a question laid within them—do you dare to dream, again? Her paw came up, hesitating ever so slightly, before gently making contact with the side of his face that she did not fear. Could never fear, for it was as beautiful as his heart. 

I have come to know a dream made of ancient stone and fire, rough around the edges and lit from within. A kind-hearted weathered soul who took in a wind-swept flower, plucking her from a loneliness she had been drowning in for what seemed like a lifetime. She paused, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. 

I may not know where I come from and who I was before, but— a deep breath in, —I do know one thing: I find myself never wanting to wake from this dream.

And there it was, the bottle she kept so safe within the confines of her burning heart shattering with the weight of her words. She offered him these pieces of her, leaving them to glitter in the palm of his hands. He could choose to drop them, to let them scatter on the wind, or he could choose to feel their bite, and bleed.