Tithe

Above him the sky had begun clear. The blue shone dazzlingly against the cliffs of the mountains. Tithe lifted his nose and sniffed at the air. A crisp bite hit his nose threatening the impending winter storm. Iron eyes narrowed and he immediately hit the trails, checking in on each of the usual haunts for his packmates. As the sun shifted across the sky and clouds began to gather and darken. With each passing moment his body began to grow tired as he pressed himself over the paths. Snow began to fall when he returned to his own den, his scarred chest expanding and expelling with his steaming breath. Warm and dry, he paced the spacious shelter and his body became cold while his stomach turned.

For hours he tried to comprehend the feelings that were coming over him. The cold and the hunger he felt he knew was not his own. The soreness in his body was one he had not felt in years. A deep need, bone deep, was a feeling he knew was his own. Staring at the knuckle bones, ears flattened against even the chattering sounds of the bats he tried to work through what was happening. Everything in him snarled at him to leave and find her. The growl of his full stomach was not his own. The cold was deeper than the warmth he felt on his skin. The soreness was of new muscles that had never been worked. They were not his, they were her’s. But she had worked so hard to keep him at a distance. He had worked so hard to respect that. As hard as he tried, he could not keep himself from thinking about her. A whisper seemed to echo through the air. Without a second thought Tithe tore from his den and into the rising storm.

Pounding through the mountains the turning feeling in his stomach had him pause. Lips curled for a moment over his fangs. Eyes flashing he took a moment to press his nose to the mounting snow. Catching a scent he found a rabbit, coat still brown from the early onslaught of winter. With a fierce snarl he snapped forward, thrashing his head to kill it, and raced back down the side of the mountains.

He did not need to put his nose to the ground. Nor did he need to find the covered tracks in the snow. Snow blinded him. All senses were useless, save the pulse through his veins. At last, a reed and snow covered mound showed against the falling snow. A sense of relief flooded him simply because of the proximity. After a deep breath and closing his eyes against his own warnings, he dug his large paws into the wet snow.

Breaking through the surface he poked his head into the den. Clear eyes looked over Pandora’s golden body. A soft whine issued from his nose and he nudged the rabbit into the den.

Pandora? He greeted softly, hesitant in case she chose to ask him to leave. Pandora… if you can, and wish… my den is warm, and dry. You can join me there. His head pulled away and looked into the still falling storm. Shoulder’s hunched against the wind and he looked back down at the golden wolf that had so thoroughly captured every once of his senses.

She was cold. All he wanted was for her to no longer be cold.

Or, may I come in?