There was something beautiful about the way her lips rose and fell. I laid my head on her warm, soft chest and slept. You see, in the world of man, there is nothing more beautiful than a faded rainbow, seen through eyes blurred by rain. In the world of dreams, a sky is never surpassed. But in my world - in my world, the wolves are gods.
Aya was the first one to come. Others came later: Beya, Teya, and Leya, but despite their magnificence, or perhaps because of it, there's always been something about them that frightens me. Aya though, has been by my side since I first saw her. Her coat is thick and glimmers in the moonlight. There seem to be no bounds to its colors: red is layered on brown is on top of gold coats silver. That's what I wanted to name here at first. Silver. But that just didn't seem right. Aya seemed almost to be whispered into my dreams the first time I slept with her. So Aya it was.
Aya can never be killed. But the wolves that I don't see can. I don't want them to die. You will disgust me if they die. The world will fall apart if they die. For their souls are special. You see, wolves are gods.
