The Wolf And The Fox

Chapter 8: The Lovers

Back in Cork, the night air felt cooler, calmer. The magic from the woods still lingered between them, thick with meaning. Wolf and Fox stepped out of Maeve's car, the familiar sounds of the city slipping back into their senses. Maeve rolled down her window: "Oh, and you will feel sore in the morning. Don't bother coming in to work, enjoy sleeping in. Ciara wants you to come by her place in the afternoon. She lives in the apartment above Slurps & Nibbles. Be good, boys!"

"Aye, aye, Captain!" he said in a playful tone.

"Will do, boss!" Wolf added."

Maeve chuckled and theatrically waved through the open car window as she drove away, leaving them standing under the soft glow of the streetlights.

Wolf felt the connection between them, as strong as ever, almost palpable after what they had experienced together. The transformation, the way they had moved through the woods in sync—it had tied something deep within them. Neither seemed ready for the night to end.

Wolf glanced over at Fox, who was staring off into the distance, his posture relaxed but his presence warm beside him.

"Hey, Fox," Wolf started, his voice quiet but steady. "Want to take a walk?"

Fox turned to him with a smile, a glint in his eye. "Yeah, I'd like that. Feels like the night's not quite done yet."

Without another word, they began walking through the quiet streets of Cork, side by side. The usual buzz of the city felt muted in the late hour, leaving them alone with their thoughts and the occasional sound of their footsteps on the cobblestones. The air was cool against their skin, but the warmth between them from the shared magic of the night still lingered.

They didn't talk much as they walked, and they didn't need to. There was a comfort in the silence, the space between them filled with an unspoken connection that had deepened after their transformation. Wolf's mind buzzed with thoughts of the night—of the shifting, of the way they had moved together through the forest, as if they had always been wolves, always been foxes.

But there was something else, too. A lingering weight in his pocket. The card.

The Lovers.

Ciara had slipped it to him just before they'd left the woods, her sharp eyes twinkling as she'd pressed the card into his hand. It'll help you start the conversation, she'd whispered, her words laced with that cryptic knowingness of hers.

Now, as they walked across St. Vincent's Bridge, Wolf felt the weight of the card growing heavier in his pocket. His heart pounded a little faster as he slowed his pace, finally stopping at the center of the bridge. He leaned against the railing, the soft glow of the streetlamps casting long shadows over the water below.

Fox stopped beside him, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he gazed out at the quiet river. The night felt still, suspended in time.

Wolf's throat tightened as he worked up the courage to speak, to say the words he'd been holding back. The memory of pulling The Lovers card at The Crane was fresh in his mind, the way his stomach had flipped when he'd seen it. He had tried to hide it then, to keep it to himself, but he couldn't anymore.

He glanced at Fox, his heart thudding in his chest, and slowly pulled the card from his pocket.

"I, uh..." Wolf started, his voice softer now. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you. Back at The Crane, when we were with Ciara, I... I drew this card." He held it out to Fox, the image of The Lovers clear in the dim light.

Fox turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. He didn't take the card, but his expression softened into something warm, something understanding. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Wolf, I may not be clairvoyant like Ciara, but... I already knew which card you pulled."