Stone Circle i have often dreamed of a far off place

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he watched.

not because he was holding the auburn woman captive by gaze alone, but because he was curious. as curious as any man could get at his age. he’d been tracking the valley’s quiet, not its wolves, but the boy’s howl split the air clean enough to turn his ear. young. rawvoiced. searching. not calling in fear, but close to it.

it drew him. and her, too. 

they couldn't see smoke. not yet, anyways. he remained hidden. the grass knew him well, the shadows even more, as his pelt blended seamlessly amongst the darkened mist. 

he hadn't made up his mind yet whether or not to step further. he'd offered enough help to the boy before, showin' him the place where his family was done killed. smoke wasn't in the business of charity. no. not without something in return.

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