Big Salmon Lake ruin my moonlight

Only faintly could he see Dehlilah’s form as she slipped further into the darkness. He was surprised by the deftness at which she navigated without a shred of light. Then he remembered her vision troubles. The darkness probably didn’t affect her much, if at all.

In the distance, he could see the glittering waves of the lake as they shifted underneath the moonlight. Bitterly, memories of this lake and a young woman he had once encountered, what seemed like eons ago, began to resurface in his mind. 

They’d had a meaningless run-in. She had wanted directions, and potentially a pack; both of which he did not have. Still, he had remembered what she’d said to him, regarding his solitude, remembered it vividly, now. 

That’s a hard path to choose.

A hollow ache bore through his chest. Not because he had any sort of attachment to the wolf, or any general loneliness. It was because he still couldn’t remember where time had stopped and began. Where, what felt like years, had slipped away from him in a fog. Then one day, it cleared, and he could feel the sun on his face again. He didn’t question it. It wasn’t in his nature to question himself. He’d re-awoken and swallowed the bitter pill that was reality. And truthfully, it wasn’t that different now than before. He was still alone. At least he recalled where he was. His keen sense of direction had not failed him and he clung onto that pride as strongly as he could.

All he knew was that he was not the same wolf as he was before. As if he has been completely disassembled and reassembled, yet reassembled wrong. The pieces were all there and some were in the wrong place.

This tumultuousness brewed quietly beneath the surface of his consciousness. His thoughts were a brewing pot, which he could hear bubbling, but continued to keep the lid closed. He refused to venture into his own mind and see how much had escaped from him. And so, the pot continued to brew.

Now, it was him and Dehlilah. That’s all he needed to focus on. He called for her now in the form of a gruff bark, almost protectively feeling the need to shepherd her as she drew nearer to the lake, lest she topple into the cold water. It was a genuine, pathetic concern of his.