The Ways of Witches by Megan Kirby
The moors were just as he remembered: desolate and beautiful. The bracken water rippled under his boat, broken by the occasional tangle of reeds. Aside from a tern floating up into the sunset with a slow wail, Coram and Sophonax saw no one as they paddled along. It was no coincidence, he realized, that there was only a one-letter difference between lonely and lovely.
When their boat scraped the shallows, Coram climbed out and invited Sophonax to curl about his shoulders. The cat accepted his position solemnly, hooking his claws through Coram’s rough brown jacket. They were both silent; there was no need to communicate verbally. Both could feel it, their hunt was nearly over.
It had been three months since his son had lain cold in his cradle, then cold in the ground. Three months since those final, silent moments with Seraphina. That final embrace, that final tangling of their bodies, that final kiss.
My fan fic skills are officially okay’d by The Rumpus tumblr now. I guess I’d have to say this is the proudest I’ve ever been.