Moving On

[Tristan]

"No. It didn't hurt," he shook his head. As he pushed around her, he rummaged for a t-shirt and pulled it on hastily, burying the reminder of whatever it was. Tristan was admittedly naive in the wolf dream. Thorn Paw (and Nimeda) said as much. Sierra implied he was a newborn pup there. The frustration rumbled inside like a distant storm. As he heated water, he knew he was being isolationist. The lonely life of his uncle on that hillside was far less complicated than interacting with people. Maybe his trollish uncle had the right idea. 

"Did you know something like this could happen? What if you were hurt while dreaming?" 

He prepared coffee while they talked, offering her a cup once it was ready.