“Whatever you think is best,” Fenrir replied, acknowledging Rose’s wishes. He started to realize how little he knew this young woman, though he wanted to. Her words had struck him, making him feel like an intruder. Well, I am an intruder, aren’t I? he contemplated, starting to give it thought, and in turn filling him with guilt.

She had a suitor lined up, didn’t she say? One that she chose; one that she may have loved. A man that may already know who she is and could give her what she wanted. Her words echoed in his head; the more I won’t want to go, and as much as I would like to ignore the truth. She didn’t want this; she probably wanted Fenrir go, and leave her out of his life. And I could… I could leave, return her freedom, never to come back… he gave it a serious moments thought.

But then what would he leave with? He would have nothing, and no one; just his lonely cabin in the woods. His only friend a young dryad that, while grateful for it’s company, often annoyed him. He could not live among his kin after the events of the war, and he could not live among humans, being a Lycan. He’d be alone for the rest of his life, of that much he was certain. And what a pathetic life it’s been… he thought, as melancholy began to set it.

Suddenly, a voice growled in the back of Fenrir’s mind. A wolf does not concern itself with the opinion of sheep. The voice wanted to reestablish Fenrir’s confidence, and in truth, had some success. But it was a voice he was afraid of, a voice he had always tried to silence. It made him uncertain; was it the man that chase after this Rose, or was it the beast?

After a few moments, he recollected himself.

“I could go into town with you today, if you’d like.” Fenrir added, unsure how Rose would feel about this offer.

Standing up, Fenrir nodded in acknowledgment, preparing to leave.

“Ah,” he said, as he patted his person. “My cloak.”

“Oh!” Rose exclaimed, hastily heading to her room to retrieve the drab grey cloak, as if embarrassed that she had forgot to return it. It put a smile on Fenrir’s face, witnessing how his words sparked this adorable reaction from her. She returned in a moment, nervously holding out the cloak, trying to avert her eyes. “H-here…” she offered. Fenrir couldn’t help but smile again. Just the simple things this girl did could bring him happiness; the way she spoke, the way she moved.

“Thank you, Ms. Rose.” He said gently, playfully returning the way she always called him Mr. Fenrir. Taking the cloak from her, he put it on, pulling the hood over his head. Next, he made his way to the door. Grabbing the handle, he opened it but did not yet step through. “After you…” he directed. She nodded, and moved past Fenrir, leaving the cottage.

“Have fun you two.” Willow commented from the hall as they departed. Fenrir gave her a nod, and then proceeded to exit behind Rose.

Outside, the scenery was covered in a blissful white. It was chilly, but not too cold. The wind was gentle with an occasional breeze. It was a beautiful morning with clear sky, and the sunlight glistened off the brilliant snow. Fenrir and Rose quietly walked side by side, taking in this serene atmosphere as they made their way toward town.

As they walk, once again their images contradict each other; petite red beside broad grey. Their forms foiled each other firmly; he made her seem smaller, and in turn he seemed taller. After a few minutes passed, Fenrir carefully moved to hold her hand. He caught it, clutching it loosely. He was allowing her the option to break the grip if she so chose, not knowing what reaction his movement would provoke.