“I could see moisture caught in the banded hairs of her fur. Her jewel-blue eyes glared into mine, challenging me to look away.”
“Outside, deep in the woods, I heard a long, keening wail, and then another, as the wolves began to howl. More voices pitched in, some low and mournful, others high and short, an eerie and beautiful chorus.”
“Then I began to play. Variations of a G major chord, the most wonderful chord known to mankind, infinitely happy. I could live inside a G major chord, with Grace, if she was willing. Everything uncomplicated and good about me could be summed up by that chord.”
“Outside of the car, the lights were even more dazzling, as if the cold air around us moved and shimmered with violet and pink. I stretched my free hand above me as if I could brush the aurora. It was cold, but a good cold, the sort that made you feel alive.”
(Source: allforowls)
“And so it was an unbroken pattern for six years: the wolves’ haunting presence in the winter and their even more haunting absence in the summer. I didn’t really think about the timing. I thought they were wolves. Only wolves.”
“A lifetime of an unblinking gaze, and now he was frozen in almost-human grief, brilliant eyes close, head ducked and tail lowered. It was the saddest thing I had ever seen.”
“I crunched out across the brittle, colourless grass into the middle of the yard and stopped, momentarily dazzled by the violent pink of the sunset through the fluttering black leaves of the trees.”
“She never growled, and somehow that was worse. A wolf should have growled. But she just stayed, eyes flicking from him to me, every aspect of her body language breathing hatred.”
“I remembered his gaze, every hue of yellow, and I couldn’t be afraid. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.”
