Jade Fern Grove mea maxima culpa

and just like that, as if summoned by the visions that still haunt him, there she stood. it became even more real when she said his name; his knees wobbled a little, and a shadow passed over his face.

dawn. he wasn't ready for this. he never was going to be ready for this.

oh, god. did she know? did she know all that he had done? abandoned her family, destroyed the peace of undersea? she must not know, for why would she not turn on him with fangs, or brush past without a word? his breath was shallow, ragged, as he stared at her.

she smelled different. not like the maplewood, not like morningside. other wolf-scents layered her pelt. she had changed. older, now. wiser? perhaps still as foolhardy. he didn't know. he didn't know her at all.

had he ever?