There’s always the one who loves and one who lets himself be loved.
W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage
for the love of Wolves
There was a divine comfort that came with the late fall season in Carpathia. The leaves had changed to autumn hues and fell like snow, carpeting the forest floor. The sun chased the morning chill away and warmed the heart and spirit.
Dari felt a closeness with Moira as they shared their intertwined past. Such closeness felt like trust emerging from a long and unjust imprisonment. Moira had Dari laughing as she told stories of folly and mishap only young women experience in their youthful exploration of life.
A sequestered life makes the discovery of one’s self and sensuality a singular experience where the wisdom of others is ignored or never heard. In this way, the emotions are honed to a…
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