Cercelee had been out all the night before, keeping vigil as the darkness slowly burned into morning. The sun had not fully risen as she turned back towards the church, fully shifted, her strides long and sure. Pushing open the door she moving like a wraith to the bed room, the door, as par usual, open and inviting for the pair of wolves had already accustomed their selves to living alone once again. As empty as their home was without the de Sadira pups, there were perks to such a life. In the past month she had made sure to take advantage of them, enjoying her time with Slay more fully than they ever had the first few months of their mateship. It was with a new purpose that they spent their time so, and the irony of it all was that if they were successful, as they so far had not been, they no longer could enjoy such moments as freely as they did now.
Halloween morning. Cercelee loomed over the sleeping male, her navy eyes watching his face, his chest rise and fall and rise again. A year ago they had celebrated the night with the rest of the pack, never imagining the year before them would turn out as it had. Children had been born, they had buried their first pack mate, others had vanished as was the course of life. And Slay and Cer had come together, had children thrust upon them, and then had to let go of them as quickly as they had come. A year, Cercelee mused, was a relatively short time in the course of all time, but life did not care. Life did not keep with time, life moved at it’s own pace, uncaring of how much time one had to spend trying to keep up.
Gently, without waking the sleeping male she slipped into bed, snuggling up to his warmth. Laying one had over his chest, she continued her watch, the sleeping male. The Rosea did not move to wake him, waiting patiently for the slumbering male to, on his own accord, come to the conclusion it was time to awaken.
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