I stared out into the white nothingness of winter, every part and piece of the world painted in white. The monochrome atmosphere blurred in my vision, melding everything together in one haze. The bites I had inflicted upon his flesh were still fresh in my memory, as painful to me as they very well should have been to him. Weeks had passed, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was still sore. I hoped not. True I had sent him away, for the best of my pack and the best for my future. Despite how badly I had craved a life with him for so long, I knew now it could never be. Somewhere deep inside part of me hoped it was not the last I would ever see of him, though. Softly my eyes slid shut, and mentally I gathered all of the thoughts that were pooling within my mind of him. I inhaled, filling my lungs, and then exhaled, expelling carbon dioxide and Leonidas in one fell swoop. Of course it wasn’t that easy. It never was. It never would be.

Eyes opened once more to stare out into the void, only now a dark figure stood out against the pearly snow. A mirage; Leonidas stood on the opposite bank from me, much the same as Jericho had that early autumn day when first we had met. His figure was strong, robust. I gazed upon him for a moment, wondering if I had in fact drank from the river too quickly and the cold had gone to my head. He seemed so lifelike, and I simply stood staring at him, yearning for him and yet knowing he could not be real. It was all a figment of my imagination. Surely my attacks had chased him from Moladion once more, and it was with all likelihood that he was gone from my life forever.

But then there was an explosion of movement, and my ears pitched forward in surprise. A mirage made no noise, my imagination surely had not gone so far. It was him, and he was running full tilt towards the frozen surface of the river. My tongue froze in my mouth, unable to verbalize my terror at what I knew he intended. Of course he would take the most reckless route, the quickest way to get to my side. After everything we had endured, all the words he spoke of wanting to change, I knew him better than anyone else. With all my heart I wanted to shout for him to stop, that I would come to him if he only remain upon the far bank. But the cold had captured my speech, and I was helpless to stop him.

I held my breath as he launched from the bank, and somehow his masculine form landed gracefully and leapt away again. He jumped across the frozen waters, but my keen eyes did not miss the way his paws lost traction upon the ice. It slowed him half a second too much. I could not move, for fear it would seal his fate. Even so, my ears did not lie to me as I heard the tell tale crunch and crack of the ice. It would not hold, and my heart jumped into my throat. And then the river gave way, the power of it seizing him and making to swallow him whole. His hindquarters disappeared beneath the surface, and my eyes grew wide, panicked. My painted warrior scrambled for a moment before turning his eyes upon me with a look of surrender in his gaze. No. I would not accept this fate for him, for me.

His goodbye was heard but dismissed immediately as I carefully picked my way down onto the ice, keeping my weight well balanced between all four paws. He had ceased his thrashing, and so I could hear the way he ice groaned under each step I took. As quickly as I dared, I walked across the ice, eyes downcast to ensure that I took the route safest for both of us. Only when I was within a few feet of him did I lift my mahogany gaze to his once more. “No; you will fight,” I said, and though it was more command than plea, my concern for his life was evident in every action I took.

Slowly I edged ever closer to the opening the ice where he body hung precariously, the water that had splashed up into his ruff already having frosted and peppered him in white. Carefully, I braced my forelegs as wide as possible at the mouth of the opening, and then I leaned forward grabbing hold of his ruff. It was not a gentle grasp, but it was far from hostile in meaning. I waited for him to latch onto me in some way – jaws into chest, or an outstretched limb – and then I began to pull backwards. The ice groaned and threatened to give way, but I shifted my hind legs and hoped that it would be enough. I growled through clenched teeth, begging him to fight for his life if nothing else. If his body cleared the whole, I was not stop there, I would drag his frozen body across the thickest portions of the ice and get him back to safe ground. He did not deserve to die this way, and I would not let him perish alone. If old man winter wanted my warrior, he would have to fight me for him.