Hushed Willows A softer universe than before

It was perhaps the best greeting Dante had ever recieved. Just as the young man had begun to reach the border, stumbling slightly on tired limbs, the voice of his songbird echoed in his ears; there was nothing like it, her voice. The sound cut through his exhaustion, numbing his achey muscles and bringing a buoyancy to him suddenly. 

Before he knew it, as though his legs had already known their destination, Dante was weaving between willow boughs and the little singer was in his sights. He felt effervescent as he approached, lining his shoulders up with hers before throwing the young woman a proud, awed look. He'd known it from the start- but now, more than ever, he could see it in her eyes- she was doing big things. 

All else might've been wrong in the world, and still Dante couldn't see a universe in which he wouldn't be standing here, in solidarity by his partner's side. With a startled chuckle of pure merriment, Dante lifted his maw to the sky and joined her song, all fatigue forgotten and instead replaced with pure, unfiltered joy.