Duck Lake capsize

While they didn’t crash in to one another, the darkness of her fur enveloped the white of hers, a yin and yang of excitement and awe. She buried her nose to the side of his neck, as if seeking comfort and he felt a pang once more – the guilt of unleashing her lost life when she couldn’t remember it. The burden had likely been so great that she had left, unable to process it. Somehow, despite his desires to do right by her, the Mayfair somehow always managed to muck up her life bit by bit.
 
His own nose dipped down, nudging against the tuft at her ear, taking in her scent that was so wildly different from when he had first met her in Donnelaith, and yet achingly familiar. She spoke, and he stilled himself, pulling his muzzle back to better study her. “We moved here in the spring. We’ve claimed a creek just west of here,” he began, inhaling sharply as he was about to reveal that the ‘we’ he referred to was he and his mate – not just he and the pack. What would she think, knowing he now had a mate and children? At one point in time, he had envisioned that life with her. It was moments like these he truly missed his father – as if the man could impart wisdom to what he was feeling in that very moment.
 
But she continued talking – claiming she remembered. He swallowed, feeling his mouth go dry. “What do you remember?” Was it possible that he was about to gain his friend back? The only part of his past that he had left?