The night air was filled with the sounds of the forest—the rustling of leaves, the distant calls of nocturnal creatures, the gentle crackling of the fire. But within the hollowed tree, there was a bubble of calm, a sanctuary where Jessamyn could finally rest. Her dreams were not filled with confusion and fear; instead, they offered her calmness as she leaned into his warmth.
In her dreams, the little wolf cub returned, sniffing and licking her face. It was ticklish, but she loved the feeling. She had a peaceful rest, her subconscious soothed by the presence of the playful cub.
Jerrick smoothed her hair as she rolled to face him. She didn't like the idea of a rolled cloak as a pillow and ended up resting on his arms. As she turned, the fur coat slipped from her shoulders. He tried to cover her, but she leaned into his chest for warmth. Maybe the fur coat wasn't to her taste. He kissed her bare shoulders as she clung to him.
