The vast wilderness sits before me.

Waiting for the long distant howl of those who have settled in my soul.

Wolfmates crushed by the immensity of pain, heartache, loss. We are bonded.

Some of you ran to the far corners of the earth, the pain too great to watch. The spaces we once roamed tainted by dark images. Some of you ran as far as the wind would take you. Away from the demons that haunt you in your sleep. Some of you chose to leave early. The pain unbearable. Leaving those of us behind to grieve.

Some of you, the gods decided your fate.

The ones who are left, are splintered, torn apart. The pack now dismantled as the pain to stay together is too great. We mourn.

We remember the days we hunted and ran and laughed. The memories never die. Sometimes they rip at the very core of our hearts. We quietly murmur our greetings from afar. Avoiding talk of days long gone. The quiet silence telling its own story of those we miss. The pieces of our hearts lie in tatters. Our faces wear the pain. Our quiet solitude and silence a mask for that which we do not speak.

The empty gaping hole that is left as we all rebuild, we hide away in our own worlds.

The wolf watches quietly. She shares her song. She pines.

One day the pack will run free again, one day.