When their mother disappeared that day it didn't feel unnatural or unexpected. By evening she and Hearth, lying on the basking stone together, had been periodically distracted by a feeling pulling them downstream. There were no more rays of sun to bathe in, so Charwood rose and playfully tapped her paw on Hearth's shoulder and nipped at his ear; he rose and licked her muzzle and leaned against her with anticipation. One last gaze and she exhaled and jumped from the stone, he followed and they both kept a brisk pace along with the stream.
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Lying in the den, tail curled over her nose, she softly breathed in the sweet new scent of her puppies. They quietly squeaked and squirmed and suckled and slept safely and warmly in their mothers embrace. Her brother, the other part of her soul, she felt his warmth coming from these pups, a pair, brother and sister just as she and Hearth were. She knew nothing of the circumstances behind her birth, but somehow she always felt she and Hearth were connected in a way that could never be severed. Now she lie in the den, nursing their pups, feeling as though this scene had played out infinitely, in all directions in time...
The little dark one was rolled on his back as his blush colored sister crawled over him, latching onto his ear and suckling. Charwood gently nosed the sister towards her belly where she immediately latched onto a teat.
Charwood lie her head down again and dozed peacefully, in the dark she watched the flickering of light behind her eyelids; a comforting vision, one that always felt protective to her. The flame danced, split in two, engulfed itself, and felt simultaneously as two and one.
