A Drizzle of Home

29 | A Drizzle of Rain

Spruce and Pine left shortly before I reached the place they said I'd find Cloud. I walked along the water alone, further down the river than the path that branched back toward the cave. I wasn't sure if I could trust their promise to go home, but I knew that there was at least nothing else they could do to interfere.

As I neared the end of our territory, a small tributary split from the main body of water, and I followed the slow moving current to where it pooled to form a wide, curved lake with a thousand ripples glinting in the afternoon sun. The light bounced off the blue surface, the glowing form of Sol hovering in the middle and stretching outward with paws made of fire. I had to squint to see across to the other side, where a lone, white form sat looking at the water.

Her attention was too focused on the lake to notice me approaching, not even as I grew close enough to see her lips moving, talking to the empty air––or perhaps her reflection. There was a bundle of wilted green behind her, what was once a muzzle-full of colorful flowers. A gift she'd brought on an earlier occasion, placed on a mound of raised grass she had her back to.

I never knew about this place, not until Pine told me on the way, but I guessed a wolf grave-site wasn't something the pack was too eager to speak about.

Stepping closer, I kept each paw light. I didn't want to scare her away again, nor was I sure just how to approach. Where did I begin? It was the whole reason I'd asked Pine for advice anyway, so that she could convince me this was a good idea and help me get the words out without desperately fumbling. Because every time I felt myself getting closer to her, physically and the bond that pulled us together over these last couple months, it happened. My heart felt as if it would explode, and my tongue weaved itself into a bird's nest.

Even now, my pulse pounded in my ears. Her soft voice tickled them, and I could make out her voice. It was as if she were talking to someone.

"I miss you, Sky."

I stopped. Part of me knew it was wrong to listen, remembering the last cruel sting eavesdropping had led to, but the other part didn't care. I didn't want to interrupt her grieving. Perhaps it was better to leave.

No. I had to tell her. I'd just give her a second to finish up. But she kept speaking.

"You don't know what it was like when you left." A small sniffle followed her words, and I could almost hear her tears falling like a tiny patter of rain. "It shattered me.

"I didn't think I'd make it without you. I felt alone, like I'd lost everything. I know that seems selfish, when you were so much to all of us." Cloud exhaled a deep breath, her chest falling with the weight of her sorrows.

"I know I'm lucky to still have the pack. I know that they're there for me, that they're my family. I know that." She echoed the word with extra emphasis, convincing herself it was true. "But it's still so hard. And I have to put on a brave face and pretend I'm okay through it all because I don't want them to worry about me."

The words, the feelings––they were enough to bring tears to my own eyes, but I stayed strong. She thought that no one understood. That she couldn't be sad. It wasn't true. I knew what it was like. Every wolf in this pack knew of the burden she carried, even if they didn't say it. They bore it too.

"The void you left, I felt it every day. That is, until there was something else to fill it. Someone."

I held my breath. I felt even worse about listening, but now I really had to hear what she would say.

"It's more than that... he helped me fill it. He's helping me heal," she said, looking up in the empty air. Cloud spoke as if her brother were right in front of her, listening to every word. "He's amazing. You would love him, Sky. And when I'm around him, I only feel joy. He works harder than any of us to help this pack." Her voice fell flat, and she tilted her muzzle back toward the water. "But I don't deserve his affection.