It is not yet dawn when the snow starts to fall. Fenris looks out across the city and marvels at how different it already looks. Behind him Carver stirs, disturbed by Fenris's absence in the bed. For a moment longer Fenris stands by the window, captivated by the subtle transformation of the landscape in front of him, before he makes his way back to the bed. He slips under the covers, wraps an arm around Carver and buries his nose in the coarse dark hair, he closes his eyes and inhales Carver's skin.

This is home.

This is where he belongs.