A/N: I got an anon on Tumblr, suggesting that I write a Wilyss fic where one of them gets sick, and then the sickness gets more serious and... I decided to put a little spin on it. This fic is based on the beautiful Japanese tale, The Crane Wife. It'll be altered in some places, but that's essentially the request. Still, credit goes to that anon

It's curious how the forest looks most beautiful when it's dead. The grass has grown brown, the leaves have fallen from the trees, but a white coating that rained from the sky covers everything and turns a grave into a wonderland. But, unlike the flowers that grow in the spring and bring the same illusion, the snow is not alive. It's dead, just like the ground. It just looks pleasing.

Will paused for a moment, adjusting the firewood under his arm so it didn't fall. Sable stopped, too, but then quickly ran forward when he resumed his walk. She had to lift up her legs to her chest to even take a step, and it was cute. It was even cuter when she stumbled, despite her best attempts. Will could swear he saw a hint of embarrassment on the canine's face, when he laughed and she sheepishly picked herself back up.

"Getting old, aren't you, girl?" Will whispered. He bent down, balancing the wood the best he could to pet her head. Sable licked his hand.

Then a rush of wind ambushed them. It was the coldest they'd felt that day, even shaking some snow off the branches of the trees and making the two companions shiver down in their bones. The sun was still high in the sky; it was still noon.

With a sigh, Will silently accepted that the winter that year would be rough, long, and hard. This part of the country was prone to those, but it didn't make them any easier. Every other year, Will's endurance would be tested; again and again, he would scrape by with half a penny in his pocket. That was kind of a miracle in itself, he supposed.

Will pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He walked forward with Sable, bribing himself to go forward with the idea of a warm fire when he got back to his cabin. He had less than half a mile left. Push through…

Keep walking…

Then a stirring caught his eye. Meters forward, behind a tree, something as white as snow was moving, but it wasn't snow. Will was lucky to have seen it; if his eyes had been just slightly more to the left, it would've gone completely unnoticed. A kind of miracle.

A miracle that he probably wouldn't have survived that winter without.

Will abandoned the firewood for the time being, and instead carried the bird home. Not to eat, but to mother. The crane's feathers were stained with blood. He found, after further inspection that the bird hadn't broken any bones. That was fortunate, seeing as Will had no experience with helping birds heal.

"I wish I could help you," Will whispered, cradling the bird in his arms in front of the fire. It was warmest there, and God knew they both needed warmth. Sable was curled up next to Will, her back touching his leg, and sleeping. "I can't do anything but hold you."

He kissed the weak bird's forehead. "But in this weather, you can't go anywhere," he said. "In the spring, you can."

He smiled. "I'll hold you until then."

Will didn't hunt any birds that winter. He ate half of the few animals he caught, and then sold the other half to buy food for his crane, Miracle.

Sable, of course, started to get jealous of Miracle. She didn't become violent towards the bird, but rather a lot clingier to Will. Will couldn't go anywhere without Sable by his side. Usually that wasn't a problem, but when Will needed to tend to Miracle he'd rather not have Sable there to make her nervous. Sable was the nicest dog in the world, but how could Miracle know that?

How could she understand anything Will was saying? When she was wailing in pain and he told her that it was going to be okay, was the tone of his voice enough to assure her? He prayed that his words were reaching her, or that the tears that fell onto her feathers were soaking in and telling her that he cared.

Miracle couldn't fly for a while. She couldn't live, without Will helping her, and that was why Will couldn't just drop dead one day in the forest with the knowledge that nobody would miss him. Somebody needed him. Miracle needed him. So he needed her.

"I'm sorry," Will muttered to her, on one particular day a week after he had taken her in. She had hurt herself trying to fly away. "I can't let you go just yet. It's still cold out there." He glanced at the door, barely holding against the roaring snowstorm outside. It was colder that day than it had been all season. Too cold for anything to fly out there. "It's not that I'm selfish. It's that you won't last out there for very long."

He paused. "And…" he whispered, "I'm also selfish." Will's eyes flickered to Sable, sleeping by his leg. He could hear her raspy breathing; as he ran a hand down her soft back, he felt the softness fading by the moment. The distinct bumps of her spine were poking through her skin.

Will looked away before his eyes could start stinging. Miracle was nuzzling her beak under his leg, pulling herself closer to him even as the moving made her whimper in pain.

She did not try to fly away again.

Not until the snow melted off the ground, and the days grew longer. Will held her closer. He made his outings shorter and his time with Miracle longer. Every day he expected her to have left, so he cracked the door open every day he went out with Sable. And, every day, he would return to see Miracle perched on a chair waiting for him. He thought, Maybe it'll snow again, for whatever reason. Maybe winter isn't over yet.

One day, Will woke up to see Miracle perched near the window, looking out. But weeks passed, and the flowers started springing up again. Life was blooming everywhere where death used to be. Even though Miracle was just a bird, Will could've sworn he saw a smile on her face as she stared out into the world outside.

And, despite himself, he smiled. "I guess it's time, then," he whispered.

He lifted Miracle on his arm, and carried her outside. A brush of wind passed them by, but it wasn't cold, unlike everything they'd seen together so far. "Look," Will said. "Isn't it beautiful?" He lifted his arm higher, but the bird just tuned her head and stared at him.

Will stared back.

Their eyes were meeting, and even though Miracle was just a bird, he could've sworn he saw a tear fall from her eye, like the one that was falling from his.

"I promised you…" he whispered, "that I'd hold you until you could do it yourself. Well, now, you can." He shoke his arm, trying to make her leave. "Fly again."

Miracle nodded. She jumped up, and outspread her wings. Part of Will was prepared for her to fall; for her wings to fail her and let her fall. He was prepared, just in case he had to reach out and catch her, but she flew perfectly. He watched, as she climbed higher and higher, flying like those flawless white wings had never been stained red in her life.

"That's beautiful," Will whispered. His eyes stung, and tears were raining from his eyes, but despite himself he smiled. "Holding you was enough, then."

He and Sable had an easy time that day. There was a lot of game excited to come out in the presence of spring, but he didn't shoot any birds. Now the idea made his stomach upset.

On the way back, he caught himself wondering, I wonder if Miracle left while I was gone. Afterwards, he laughed. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Well, don't be sad, girl. She was in the area when I found her, so maybe she'll visit. Holler if you see a white crane nearby."

Sable practically rolled her eyes; Will chuckled.

They approached Will's cabin, mouths already watering at the prospect of delicious meat, sizzling on the fire for dinner. Usually Sable and Will didn't get back this late. Usually they returned when the sun had a few hours to set, and Will spent the time between then and dinner going into town to trade, or reading. But spring was here, and they didn't feel like wasting this beautiful new scene by staying inside. Will took his sketchbook this day. For hours he sat under a tree, weaving his heart onto the paper while Sable laid her head in his lap and slept.

Sometimes Will wished he didn't live out so far in the sticks. Sometimes he dreamt of a big house, and more money than he knew what to do with… then he would wake up and hear the rustling of the leaves, and feel the sunlight kissing his face, and realize that he could never truly live anywhere else.

And yet, there was something missing. He had a loyal companion, a roof over his head, and if he worked hard, enough money to live with… so what was missing?

What did he need?

That day, Will walked home to find something new. Outside on his porch, sitting on the steps, was a girl he'd never seen before. She was stringing daisies together in a necklace, and singing. He knew he had never heard this song before, and yet it was so familiar. He felt like he could sing along to the melody with her in perfect tune, but that would ruin her beautiful voice. Was this girl a professional singer? No, her voice wasn't fine-tuned like you would find in musical theatre. She was born with it, and he could feel it. He could feel all of it like she was embracing him with her voice.

In all of his enchantment he had stopped dead in his tracks. The girl noticed, and her voice faded when she looked up and their eyes met. Across this distance, he couldn't see any of the distinct features of her face… but when you haven't looked into a human's eyes for so long, you know for certain when someone is staring at you.

And she smiled.

And then winter ended.