Sharp Ears, Fluffy Tails

Epilogue – Cycle

He was tired.  Old.  Too old.

Quietly closing the door to their quaint, one-bedroom apartment, he made his way toward the back on soft footsteps.  Wendy was still sleeping – he could hear her deep breaths from the front door – and he didn't want to disturb her.  She had been a bit sick lately, and rest would be good for her.

Her scent had changed.  Roco didn't know what it meant, but if she didn't start feeling better soon, he would make her go to the doctor, even if it meant picking her up and carrying her there himself.

They had made a life for themselves here, a strange country in the far north.  At first, it had been difficult for them, unable to communicate, no family, friends, or support system.  But Wendy had worked so, so hard, learning the country's language while working at a job teaching her own.  For years, she 'burnt herself at both ends' – a phrase she had used with a tired smile – until they found themselves settled.

Roco himself had found work, doing what he did best – manual labor.  He built houses or harvested crops with other people who hardly spoke the language, doing what he could to contribute to their new life.  They were both so busy that sometimes Roco forgot that he was an animal, didn't really belong to this world of wages and labor.

He remembered now, though.  He'd had to stop working several months ago, too old to keep up with the heavy lifting.  His once black hair had gone peppery, increasingly gray, though he was sure he wouldn't live long enough to see it go completely white.  He was honestly surprised he was still alive at all, already well-past a wolf's lifespan.

And he was so tired.

He entered the bathroom, setting the bottle of rose-scented bubble bath he had bought on the tub's ledge.  He would run a bath for Wendy later, rub her back to help her relax and feel better.  Maybe they could fuck around a little, though Wendy had to do most of the work in that regard these days.

When he turned to leave the bathroom, he saw a strange, plastic stick sitting on the sink counter.  It smelled like piss, which made Roco pull back a bit, and had two pink lines showing on a window on top.  It confused him and he scowled at it, then decided he would ask about it later.

He moved to the bedroom, where Wendy continued to lay sleeping, though it had taken him a while to get to the store and back.  She was still so beautiful, red hair lying on the pillow, long eyelashes resting on her cheeks.  Her soft body rose and fell with her deep breaths.  Roco approached to stare at her, still amazed that she could love an animal such as him, and saw there were tracks stained onto her face, as though she had been crying in her sleep.

His ears drooped, wanting to protect her from whatever dreams plagued her, but unable to do so.  Even tangible monsters would likely defeat him, old and weakened as he was.  All he could do was climb onto the bed behind her and wrap his arms around her, hoping his embrace and his scent gave her security.

He buried his face in her hair, comforted by the sweet smell of his mate, and closed his eyes.  And just like that, he was able to fall into a deep, warm sleep.

His heart beat once.

Twice.

And then it stopped.