AARYN
Around him, the WildWood still echoed with the howls of mourning that the tribe raised to honor the sadness of their brethren. Whether they knew it or not, they sang for him.
Every goosebumped part of Aaryn shook, trembled. It seemed as if the very dirt under his feet vibrated with his grief.
He couldn't take his eyes off the last spot he'd seen her, that near-white fur flashing between the green of the leaves and the brown of the forest floor.
He was held, captivated, a creeping hope that she would re-emerge. That he'd find out this had all be some kind of elaborate joke. Or that he had gotten through to her and she'd changed her mind and returned to him.
But she didn't turn.
She didn't come back.
She didn't suddenly appear.
Yet he still couldn't move.
