Eggsnatcher, My Friend [1763 RWH], by Vicki Stephenson
Two forms sat next to a small pond, far from Rushwater Holt. They had left to travel together, both knowing that one would not return.
"You think about death differently than I do, I know." Wise Elk spoke the words, knowing the old wolf wouldn't completely understand them. Eggsnatcher looked up at him, her eyes slightly closed. His voice seemed to comfort her, so he continued. "For you, it's just something to accept with calm patience. I've seen it before."
He sighed and ran his fingers through Eggsnatcher's fur over her shoulder blades. She rolled over to her side and looked up at him - an invitation for a belly scratch if he ever saw one. Smiling, he moved his hand to her stomach and lightly ran his fingernails across. Eggsnatcher made a small grunting sound, and then laid her head on the ground. Wise Elk could swear she was smiling.
Strange how sometimes when death was close, everything could be so calm. Night birds occasionally trilled from the trees. The pond splashed now and then from some unseen creature. Insects buzzed over the elf's head. Eggsnatcher's slightly laboured breathing filled Wise Elk's ears.
As he continued scratching, he spoke words so familiar, it was almost a chant. "I remember my first wolf-friend: Softmuzzle. She was such a sweetie. Nothing could ruffle her fur. Then there was Widepaws, who had the surest grip in any terrain. He was smart, too." He marveled for a moment in memory. Memories; how he worked so hard to keep them.
Time moved forward, as it always does, though sometimes it can do so without notice. The waters were becoming lighter and the bushes rustled with activity. Night birds were slowly replaced with morning ones.
Wise Elk's hand had come to rest on his friend's warm pelt as he continued to share about each wolf-friend he had bonded with in his long life. In time, he became silent and simply sat at Eggsnatcher's side. Very slowly he felt her chest stop rising.
"And then there was Eggsnatcher." Wise Elk spoke with tears in his eyes. He looked down at his friend, who was now very still. "She was a trickster. She loved to take my things and hide them, then run with me while I searched. Eggsnatcher was a lot of fun. And she was my friend."
He leaned forward to press his face against her soft fur. He wouldn't take her pelt - it wasn't his way. He would leave her here by the pond where she had chosen to rest. But first, he would stay with her a little while longer…and remember.
Grief [1459 RWH], by Vicki Stephenson
It wasn't until he was alone in his den, the one he once shared with his lovemate. The silence was suffocating, the walls closed in on his lone form. Darkened eyes watched a small insect crawl across the ceiling with a seemingly random pattern, criss-crossing with a madding determination.
Slowly the words began to form in his mind. "What if?" The possibilities, endless, became clear to him. "What if I had coaxed her from her friends one more time? What if I had instead walked with her to meet with Moonbow? What if? What if? What if??"
The thoughts flooded his mind until he clenched his fists against the furs, full of hopeless fury. Tears filled his eyes and spilled out to run down his cheeks. He turned against his pillow to pummel it with his fists, venting his frustration and pain.
"No!" he howled, sobs racking his throat and his breath coming in ragged, uncontrolled gasps. "Why now?" he cried, not caring who might hear him in the daylight of the holt. "We had everything!" He fell into his pillow and stared miserably at the darkened wall. "We had a chance." He sobbed the words wetly.
Unthinking, he suddenly reached out with a lock-send to her. **I am Ruh!** He found only an emptiness that ripped at his soul until he felt he had been sliced in two and left to bleed to death. Closing his eyes, he morbidly imagined a pool of blood ever widening around his still, naked body, as the joy in his heart poured out to leave him forever.