A grumbling, groaning little half-sigh breaks from Daphne’s lips as she stirs from her sleep. Because no, she does…not want to be awake right now.
Please, she begs her wolf, who is shaking out her fur, turning towards the door with interest. You’re imagining it – you always are. It’s not real – he’s not here, he’s not ever coming here again. Just…let’s go back to sleep. It’s better when we’re not conscious.
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