I will (not) go

Snow fell softly outside of the shared den. His tired eyes watching the small dots softly drift inwards and outwards every now and then before joining the small sheet of blanket set across the grounds.  It was only when the wind was particularly rough would they travel in  towards the mouth of the cave, ruffling his fur and melting upon impact.

Inhaling softly, the man looked beside him to where Valette lay,  her small  body tethered to his for warmth and shielded from the cold, curled so  tightly he could only see the top of her head. During the night his ears  tipped back to listen for her breaths, so shallow and small in slumber,  but a sign that she was still here. Still with him.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, the man exhaled his breath into the  darkness of the cave before mustering the strength to nose her awake  with light touches.

Valette, he croaked with a burning throat. Come.
Tired eyes stared at her, lids heavy and folding at the corners of which  were crinkled with age. A smile blessed his face as she rose to stare  at him, and without a word he turned to shed the warmth of the cavern  for favor of the frigid night, the snow fall covering his back,  welcoming him into it’s embrace.

Stalking through the land with muscles laved with ache and pains, the  elder slipped every now and then upon the trail. His legs first went, then body after--clash with the earth, sending snow in his wake and grunts  spilling past his maw, but he was determined to stray his mind from the  pain, to continue onwards with steady breaths which would disappear into  the frigid air.

---

Growing tired with each step, Greyback sought to stop and rest at the  crest of a hill. The land so dead, so white with snow that it was barely  recognizable. The mountains, once sharp and black, were now dulled with  the cover of white they almost blended in with the sky line, and the  snow, so blinding it was hardly worth trying to figure out what was up  and down.

Love, My love. 
But a voice, so calm, so surreal, pulled him from his thoughts, his worry.

Greyback…. Love….
Squinting his eyes into the white air, the man tried to see, tried to  listen and follow the oddly familiar voice whispering on the wind.

Where are you? 
It echoed again and again, pulling him deeper and farther into the  unknown before opening up to a figure of white. And there, standing  before him, was a face so familiar and almost lost in age he shook with  tears of joy.

It’s been so long,  they whispered.
He agreed silently, smiling happily and approaching them through the mist,  tail wagging behind him.

Am I to go with you? Is it time? He questioned softly.
The figure nodded. A reply he expected, something he had been preparing  for and making peace with...But something within him still didn’t feel  right, still didn’t want to let go, and as he paused to think and look  down he swallowed his ever-dry throat. The wind battering against his  sides picking up in strength. The cold stung.

But… Valette. I can’t leave her. 
He looked behind him, battling against the cold and squinting towards  the direction from which he came, and to where Valette hadn’t followed  him... Why hadn’t she followed him?

She will join us sometime.  
A long silence stretched miles and miles.  

Deep within Easthollow the remnants of him laid, still snuggled against  Valette within the ever-inviting den and proving warmth that was slowly  fading with time. Come morning he would be stiff against her,
        cold and still,
                 gone and waiting.