She curls up against him, smelling warm clay and smoke and blood under all, but more importantly the clear night air when everything's fresh and free. There she could run forever.
Run forever, and still there would be someone there when she came home.
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She curls up against him, smelling warm clay and smoke and blood under all, but more importantly the clear night air when everything's fresh and free. There she could run forever.
Run forever, and still there would be someone there when she came home.
Maybe that's what she dreams about, tonight.