"You are letting me go?" Ravok asked.
"Yes. But Ravok," Eric stepped forward, "focus on the enemy. Not our own people. Do not turn your claws inward." He swallowed. "Please." Eric reached out slowly and placed his hand against Ravok's massive head, fingers sinking into dense, coarse fur. "I'm sorry," Eric said softly. "For everything."
The wolf's breathing was steady, powerful. He leaned subtly into the touch. "I know," Ravok replied.
Eric withdrew his hand slowly.
Ravok turned. The shadows parted fully now, opening a path that led upward, toward waking consciousness.
Eric watched him go, feeling the internal space inside his mind shift, rearrange, hollow out.
As Ravok's form dissolved into rising darkness and vanished beyond the threshold of his consciousness, Eric lifted his face toward the unseen sky of this mental abyss.
He prayed.
Let Crestwood still be standing when I wake.
Let Sera be safe.
And let Ravok remember the difference between enemy and family.
