How strange it was, to hear the night-god’s name come from her, of all people. He felt her hand against his own and briefly recognized it had known blood from many, many souls. In some way, this woman was magic too. This his skin new, for it crawled under his fur and made the neck-fur under his unkempt hair rise. Orange eyes stared at her own, no longer caring if it was disrespectful. Something had changed between them, if only for the moment. Tomorrow they would be at odds again, one worshiping the sun, the other the night, but for now she was the voice he needed to hear and the reason he had not found in anyone else.
His eyes closed as she touched him, and reopened as she drew away. The eyes refocused. Drawn from his own self-brought madness the wolf smiled in a peculiar way. “I know,” he said with the certainty of a man that knew the voice of his god. Whatever suffering would befall Eris would come in time. It would ruin her, but even ruined things could be saved.
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