10-25-2019, 09:23 PM
He met Sierra as she began her return. The flower in his pocket warmed his chest as did the two in his hands. One he offered, “flower for the lady wolf.” A wry smile touched his lips. She would sense its warmth if she drew near. The gilding of her eyes shone the veins that pulsed, and Tristan began to wonder if the awareness of the flower’s appearance was an artifact of their wolfish vision.
“Lets not to make it angry, then,” he said. His gaze was eventually drawn to the wolves. Their stomps and sniffs were eager to be away. Tristan was torn. Something about this place warred his halves within: the man, the wolf, and the troll. A monstrous combination. The tree-walker must be real, he realized, or the battle in his heart would not be so acute.
One last glance over his shoulder saw the remaining four flourishing. Perhaps other strange findings lay in their path.
“Lets not to make it angry, then,” he said. His gaze was eventually drawn to the wolves. Their stomps and sniffs were eager to be away. Tristan was torn. Something about this place warred his halves within: the man, the wolf, and the troll. A monstrous combination. The tree-walker must be real, he realized, or the battle in his heart would not be so acute.
One last glance over his shoulder saw the remaining four flourishing. Perhaps other strange findings lay in their path.