The sun slipped through the gaps in the blinds, extending its reach across the room at a lazy pace until all three bodies were under its touch and Julee could feel the radiating warmth spread over her back. Even as Spring had started to bow out in favor of Summer’s lead the heat cast through the window was no match for what already simmered in the bed. She laid in silence, soaking up the little noises made as the pair she’d dozed with dreamt for a while longer. Her cheek rested on the arctic wolf’s chest, shifting the gaze she had on the woman on his other side as she rode the rise and fall of his every breath.

She cherished the tranquil moment, sliding it into her memory as a snapshot in time that she never would have anticipated. The love of her life and the woman she once despised the existence of sharing the same space, much less a lover’s tryst, was not only an impossibility, but the suggestion would have raised both her hackles and her ire. Since then she couldn’t imagine a time without the scent of both tangled up and lingering with her own wherever she went.

Pockets, that’s what it all stemmed from. Thinking back on it lifted the edges of her lips in a brighter smile. In a world where clothing was less a necessity and more of option, and when warmer weather soured the idea of adding a layer and when her natural coat was thick enough to brave the elements she was a sight beheld by the white wolf for one reason: she didn’t have pockets. How could she carry her things if she didn’t have pockets? He posed the question to her in such a genuinely curious way, and it was such an adorable delivery that after her initial surprise she was hooked. Simple hang outs, chatter in the park, midnight rendezvous for moonlight swims and dozes on the shore, the pair slowly blended into one. In nights of stargazing she named a cluster of stars after him and then he could always be with her.

Then they were mates, bound forever. Those were the whispered promises under the covers and the sweet assurances before slumber.

Despite their increasing union at the hip there was the occasional fall into other beds they always returned to one another’s embrace. She was content as she embraced those moments that she shared with him, and she never questioned that the male felt the same about her as she did about him. Quel cradled her heart.

Until he didn’t.

Jealousy took over, and although she didn’t find that it had until it was too late, it wrapped tendrils about the white wolf and inched him away one long night after another. The bed was no longer warm, the welcome feel of embraces waned, and after years of happiness she and the arctic wolf were like apparitions who were oblivious to one another’s existence passing by.

A quiet murmur upended her thoughts, and as her ear twitched to listen to the sleepy tones accompanying the wolf’s adjustment she peeked up at him as best she could before movement at his other side caught her attention. Enough light had spilled into the room that the arctic wolf’s albedo had turned him into his own light source, casting the sun’s rays over the half fox, half wolf, mixed breed woman that started to stir.

Wolflin - never had there been anybody in the world that she despised as much. Never had there been anybody that she wished to blink a million miles away until she knew that Wolflin existed. The mutt was nothing to her but a fable, a creature that existed in the periphery and could have spawned from her imagination, but she knew that the woman was real. Out from the ether, the shadows, or both, was a halfbreed craftily unraveling the ties that she had made and pulling Quel away from her. This was her enemy, and if she came face to face with this specter and forced it to coalesce into something real the resulting collision would shake the world as she knew it.

She was right. One afternoon’s visit with a friend turned into an experience to last a lifetime. A hike in the woods was supposed to end with a short stopover by a waterfall to rest, relax, and draw in the scenery, but it wasn’t until she arrived that she learned that someone else had been invited to while away the afternoon in the splendor of the scene.

“Do you know Wolflin?” her friend asked. Julee’s words denied that she knew the mutt, but the bristle of her pelt belied her statement. Their mutual friend managed to remain oblivious, but the discomfort was obvious between the pair, and with the fidget that the halfbreed showed it was clear that she was in as much a strain between the pulls of fight and flight as Julee. Comfortless minutes sprawled into an hour that seemingly stretched out into infinity while the two women focused their attention towards their companion and occasionally cast tense glances to one another out of the corner of their eyes. Be it by obstinance or respect, neither addressed the other nor backed out to abandon their friend.

“Oh geeze, what time is it? I’ve got to go. You two hang out. I know you’ve got a lot in common.” That was all the warning that they got before their friendly link together left them behind. The tenseness in her chest she felt when first seeing Wolflin was back, doubled and ramping her anxiety as her mind tripped over itself on what was coming next. Gnashes at the air, snarls, growls, or hurling insults were all scratching one another as they vied for dominance. Instead of doing anything she did nothing at all. Silence ensued outside of the slosh of the water cycling from the falls.

Now she couldn’t recall who broke the uneasy silence, but if she were pressed she would have guessed that Wolflin interrupted the angry thoughts twisting around one another in her mind. No doubt it was about Kass, who had just left, and questions about how she knew her and how they had become friends. The mutt was filling space and Julee’s responses lost their sharp edges, mellowing with each part of the back and forth until one question in particular caught her by surprise.

“You’re Quel’s mate, right?”

It was surprisingly direct, but something about the delivery was calm and quiet. After registering it, Julee nodded her head. “Yeah.”

“That guy talks about you all the time. He’s stupid crazy about you. I think I can understand why. It’s nice to finally be able to put a face with the stories.”

In a single stroke the burning anger was snuffed and gone as smoke with the release of her breath. The relief was as palpable as the rage that had built up before it, and she knew that her sudden cooling was visible to Wolflin as the other woman’s rigid stance folded.

Without shots to fire the two started to talk, skirting subjects like the white wolf and how they came to converge with him nebulously in the middle, until their chance meeting came to an end. But where one bizarre happenstance closed another planned visit came to follow, and then another, and the energy spent in being faceless enemies was rapidly converted into an unexpected friendship.

When the common denominator was slipped out from under them their relationship had already grown strong enough to stand on its own. Quel had to go. It wasn’t from any growing divide: in fact, as tensions eased the seams that had split were slowly sewn back together. Life was complicated and took him somewhere she couldn’t go, but he left with her love.
They bawled. They cried. They leaned on one another’s shoulders. Julee and Wolflin were each other’s support as their bridge left, but instead of breaking off with the loss they were two bodies that merged, fused through a familiar turmoil and linked together as one complete set that some would dotingly refer to as the “Leelin.”

So how did she get here? The question still lingered even as she laid in bed and gazed into the mutt’s blue eyes as Wolflin slipped out from the weave of sleep’s grasp. Neither disturbed the moment, simply looking across to one another over the short gap of white fur that laid between them, and even when Julee lifted her hand and reached out to offer it to the other woman they didn’t say a word. Fingers laced and their palm’s pads flattened together as they shared a warm smile.

Quel was back. The return to form was slow. The first days, weeks, and months were strained. It wasn’t the same, it couldn’t be, but here he was again in an impermanent moment. For now, the details were inconsequential. Instead, she reveled in the intersection of past and present, the synchronization of one life’s love and another, and for a brief snapshot in time it could be like nothing happened. This was a moment she would hold in her heart for the rest of time.

---

A piece done as a gift for a mutual friend of  coyttl and myself featuring his character, coyttl 's Wolflin, and Julee in her original, wolf form.

I wanted  celeste~ to capture some warmth and intimacy among a group that's had some notable hardships on their individual relationships. I think she did a wonderful job of it and i couldn't be happier with the results.

Quel belongs to himself, Wolflin belongs to  coyttl, and Julee belongs to me (although Julee and Wolflin would probably argue they belong to each other).