Ocean Kisses

Family

Doc pov

It had been a few months since I found Ren, and his recovery was going remarkably well. He was walking without limping now, his once painful injuries healing into neat scars that no longer seemed to bother him. I stayed diligent, changing his bandages frequently, always keeping an eye out for signs of infection. It was a routine we both fell into easily, one that seemed to build a quiet bond of trust between us.

At first, he was hesitant about my proximity, but over time, he grew accustomed to me being near. He no longer flinched when I reached out to touch him, and his once wary gaze softened into something almost... content. And then, one night, he took it a step further.

I had gone to bed like any other night, tired from the day’s work and ready to crash. But when I woke up in the early hours, something felt... different. It wasn’t the blanket that was slightly heavier—it was the unmistakable warmth of another presence next to me. My heart jumped into my throat as I blinked through the dim light, half expecting to find an intruder.

Instead, there was Ren, stretched out across the bed in his wolf form, his tail curled neatly around his legs. He wasn’t touching me, but he was close—closer than he had ever been before. My immediate reaction was panic, not because I felt threatened, but because it was so unexpected.

"Ren?" I whispered, my voice hushed with a mixture of disbelief and concern. His ears twitched at the sound of my voice, but he didn’t stir. His breathing was steady and peaceful, his head tucked slightly under his paw.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or be worried. Was he okay? Did he come up here because something was wrong? Or was this... his way of saying he trusted me? I stayed frozen for a moment, not wanting to disturb him, but also trying to wrap my head around what this meant.

Eventually, I sighed and leaned back into my pillow, letting the tension ease from my shoulders. "Guess this is a thing now, huh?" I muttered under my breath, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the initial scare.

From that night on, it became a habit. Not every night, but more often than not, I’d wake up to find Ren in my bed, either at the foot or curled up near me. It was... comforting, in a strange way. A sign that we were no longer just two strangers thrown together by circumstance. We were something more now. Companions, maybe even friends.

And honestly? I didn’t mind it one bit.

As time went on, Ren began to thrive. His ribs, once painfully visible, were now hidden beneath a healthy layer of muscle and fur. I couldn’t hide my excitement when I noticed the change—it felt like a huge milestone. It had taken about a month of trial and error with his diet, mixing human food, a little fish food, and occasionally indulging him with a steak or two, but the results were undeniable. He seemed happier, more energetic, and more comfortable in his own skin—or fur, rather.

His fur, once patchy and dull, started growing back thick and shiny. I took it upon myself to brush it regularly, partly to keep it from matting and partly because he seemed to enjoy it. At first, he was wary of the brush, but soon enough, he’d relax into it, occasionally even leaning against me as I worked out the tangles. That little act of care seemed to strengthen the trust between us.

Most nights, we’d end up cuddling, which became a comfort for both of us. Sometimes, he’d shift into his humanoid form—something he seemed to do only when he felt completely safe—and I’d help him with his hair. His mane was just as wild as his fur had been, thick and unruly, but I didn’t mind. I’d brush it out carefully, tying it back loosely when I could, though a few stubborn strands always found their way loose. It was a small ritual, but one that brought us closer.

Even though he still didn’t talk—or couldn’t—it didn’t hinder our bond. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t know any language or just chose not to speak, but he understood me, that much was clear. I’d talk to him like I would anyone else, whether we were at home or out and about in town. He’d trot beside me in his wolf form, ears swiveling attentively as I rambled on about my day or pointed out random things we passed.