Ash had never believed in second chances.Not for people. Not for wolves. Not for hearts that had been broken open and left in the sun to dry.He was 210 years old, Guardian of Valley Nine, and he had spent 40 of those years being very good at alone.His fur was gray at the muzzle. His left ear had a notch from a border fight when he was 130. His right front paw dragged when the weather turned cold from an injury he got saving a pup who was now an elder with pups of her own.And his chest had a hollow place where Kaia used to be.Kaia had been his mate for 90 years. She sang. She laughed loud. She planted yellow flowers that pointed east and told him the desert would learn to bloom again one day.Then the fever came in one dry season and took her in seven days. Seven days of him sitting by her side, bringing water, telling stories, begging the mountain to hum louder.On the seventh night she touched his face with her paw and said "Don’t you dare stop singing, Ash."Then she walked int
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