The Wolf's True Feelings

//-//- Phase 1 -//-//-
It had started when she noticed one of her boys upset, sitting alone, separated from her pack. She wandered cautiously up, acting as if nothing was amiss, her flawlessly cheerful face beaming at him radiantly as she approached. She babbled about nothings, nudging him a couple times, leaning her head to rest on his shoulder often, letting him know that she was there with every brush her of hand against his. He stared ahead, occasionally looking upward at the sky to watch the clouds loll past, his black eyes starting to soften to a dark brown. Only she would notice this subtle color change in his beautifully dark eyes. A tear escaped him, rolling down his cheek. She reacted calmly, reaching out tenderly with her slightly curled hand and gingerly wiping the single lonely tear away from his rugged face. His hair tickled her as she rubbed his skin, letting him know that she cared, that she was there to help. They sat there for some time; not sure of what exactly they were watching but knowing that the other was occasionally stealing glances to the sight of each other’s face. She watched the birds and the butterflies dance and dart past, easily amused and intrigued by the creatures. He looked aimlessly up at the cloud as if looking for an escape, begging someone to save him, something he would never ask for out loud. He could feel the warmth radiate from her body in welcome. She was naturally so warm and soft despite her scars and worn hands and feet. The scent coming from her was so earthy, so natural he could not believe it was not a perfume. She smelled of roses and lotus flowers, of dogs and rabbits, of the pure mountain air and interesting ocean. Oh how she wanted to hug him, to hold him to her breast and comfort him with her warmth until he confessed, until he felt safe and loved. His voice finally came, deep and strained.
“I’m sorry.”
She dared to look at him with her color capturing eyes. “For what?”
“For worrying you,” he admitted, avoiding her gaze for he knew if he looked at her, he would become lost, admitting everything and leaving nothing to spare. Her soft lips curled into a smile, the ends curling up, giving her a cat like experience. He looked at her to see her eyes were forced halfway closed by her risen cheeks from the smile, making them half moons. He half expected her to meow. He could not help but smile. To laugh joyously. He laughed despite his pained heart, despite his persona, despite his sanity. And oh, how she wanted to kiss his smiling face, to feel her soft lips against his full ones, to taste his mouth. To feel his love through small restricted gestures of friendship and trust. But she sat there, watching him in amazement as he laughed and laughed and laughed. He laughed past his tears. He laughed through the day and through the night. He laughed himself to sleep, forever under the watchful soothing gaze of his protector.