A one shot I had a dream about
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The wolf lifted his muzzle from the small stream, water dripping down from his open mouth. He bared his teeth at his reflection before standing to his full height, stretching his muscles. When he was ready, he began to run.
The speed he ran at was amazing. The trees flew by so fast they were a blur, and the dark sky above was an endless blanket of black cloud. His paws ghosted above the ground as he continued his journey, barely touching the leaf strewn earth. Ahead of him, far away in the distance, he saw the beginnings of houses, marking the start of the reservation population. Pain stabbed his heart like a knife, and he spun on his paws, the dirt flying, on a different path.
The woman's head lolled as she stared listlessly out of the open window. The cold made her shiver as she drew her nightgown closer to her body, the crumpling of paper drawing her attention to the letter in her hand.
It was a very old letter. The yellowed paper was crumpled and the writing faded, the edges ripped from constant closing and reopening. But the woman kept it in her hand like a vice. She knew people talked of her, called her crazy and avoided her like the plague. She knew the rumours, the stories, the whispers that followed her whenever she ventured out of the safety of her house.
But the woman didn't care.
The wolf caught a scent, and shot after it like an arrow, its powerful limbs propelling it towards the enemy. Yes, the enemy. The sickly sweet scent of the enemy was near, its syrupy smell making him gag.
Years ago, he first smelt this scent. It made him go through changes, life altering revelations that made his world spin on his axis. He left his home, his people, and most of all, his love.
How he wished he could return.
But the wolf had a job to do.
The woman read the letter again, her tired eyes straining to see in the dim light. Her heart burned as she read the only words that mattered, the words that made her stay up most of the night by her balcony window, gazing at the nearby forest.
Years ago, he left her. Without a word, without a kiss, without a final goodbye. But he left a letter, the one she held in her very hands. The reason why she was cold and tired and staring at the stars.
I'm doing this to keep you safe…please my love, wait for me.
The wolf exploded into a clearing, lunging quickly at the enemy. The enemy screamed and clawed furiously, but his jaws closed around its arm and tore it off, flinging it away before turning to face the enemy. But a foot then collided into his side, and the wolf was flung into the woods and into darkness.
The enemy stood tall and laughed, dancing fluidly over to the twitching arm that lay on the ground. It laughed again, before bending down to retrieve the arm.
The wolf's jaws closed around its neck.
The woman heard the faint snarl of an animal, and straightened up, her eyes darting to the forest. She stood, the arm holding the letter tightening convulsively as she threw the balcony doors open and ran outside, stumbling in the nightgown. She listened again, her heart beating fast, waiting eagerly to hear the sound, to have hoped again.
The woman didn't know how long she waited, standing stiffly against the balcony edge, her eyes staring blindly into the forest. Time passed in eons, slowly dragging into the night. When the sky began to lighten and the birds began their early wake up call, she crumpled to the floor, her hopeful heart breaking into a thousand pieces and shattering on the floor. She drew her knees up and held the letter close to her breast, letting the darkness swallow her.
My love, my heart, my warrior. Please return to me.
The wolf stood uncertainly at the last row of trees, his eyes facing the lonely house at the end of the street. The shutters were drawn, the grass in the garden was overgrown, and the car in the driveway was rusty and falling apart.
He wiped his muzzle on the grass and closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of strength, the sense of heightened hearing, the wondrous smells he'll never be sensitive enough to smell again.
Finally he stood, and after closing his eyes and concentrating, the wolf began to shake.
The woman lay on the balcony, her eyes closed and her aged face scrunched in pain. Her arms were wrapped around her body, and the nightgown she wore revealed itself to be a pale grey. Her lips moved as she slept, mumbling restlessly as she dreamed.
My love, my heart, my warrior. I am waiting.
The man stood in the dusty hall, his eyes tracing the walls, where the faded pictures hung askew. Clothes lay untouched on the floor, and he spotted an old pair of boots by a chair, with a cobweb hanging between them.
The house was barely used.
Yet…he knew she was here.
He smelt her scent, and though he had not smelt it in a long time it was unmistakable. The smell of lilies hung in the air, faint but noticeable. He noticed the footprints in the dust on the floor, and followed them, his instincts guiding him on. They led him up the stairs, past a relatively clean bathroom, and to a room with a closed door. The smell of lilies was particularly strong, and as he opened the door his eyes met a table full of lilies in every colour.
His eyes roamed the room, noting the used bed, the bookshelf of books, the tons of dirty laundry on the floor. His heart fell as he realized no one was there, and his heart constricted in his chest, the pain nearly bowling him over. He took a raged breath, breathing in the perfumed air, when he heard it.
A faint beating heart.
The woman drowned in her dreams, hoping, praying, for some sort of release. The nightmares plagued her, laughed at her, taunted her.
They never seemed to leave her alone.
Hurry, my love.
The man stood over the woman, his eyes searching her face. He caught sight of the letter clutched to her chest and gently removed it. Somehow, as if a spell was broken, the paper crumpled into dust, a billow of wind sweeping it away over the balcony. He touched her face, trying to find words, but they didn't come.
Instead, he watched the love of his life awake.
A warm hand touching her cheek sent the woman into the state of consciousness. The woman blearily opened her eyes, immediately focusing on the man before her. She gasped, and struggled to get up, joy and wonder filling her heart to the brim until she started to cry tears of love, pulling him close. She felt tears slide down her head, and knew that he, too, was crying.
They both sat their, holding each other close, until she spoke.
"You kept your promise." She touched his cheek, closing her eyes and inhaling his earthy pine scent.
"I promised I would return, beautiful wife." He felt for the hand on his cheek, and smiled when he felt the band on her fourth finger. "After twenty years, you still wear my ring and call me your husband. Even after I abandoned you."
The woman looked straight into his warm eyes, seeing the love soften the lines around his face. "You never abandoned me, my warrior. You were protecting your people, our reservation – I kept your letter close to my heart, like your love always has been."
The man stood, pulling her with him. "I love you beyond words." He whispered. "My Quileute beauty, my imprint."
The woman did nothing to hinder the tears streaming down her face. "My love. My heart. My Warrior."
She put both hands on the side of his face, wiping his tears away. "My protector." She said triumphantly. "My wolf."
No need to review, but it'll be nice. This is just to get my creativity flowing for my other stories.
xx