FSE

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Funny how it's not the cold that breaks you. It's not the wind that freezes ice into your fur or the thousand miles of unforged trail that wears you down. Hell, it's not even the promise of a bullet waiting in some thug's gun to tear open your chest that stops you. It's this. It's her, the love of your life lying in bed beside you. She's what will break you.

"Jack," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

It's the heat of her breath brushing against your snout. The weight of her arm on your chest, pinning you down, tense with each heartbeat, and reminding you of nothing but the foxes downstairs. That's what'll freeze you faster than any water.

"I know, Eliza." Her leg lays draped over his own, and their fur mingles together. His dark brown blends with her black to the point where if he closes one eye he can't tell where his ends and hers begins. "You did what you had to."

He pulls one paw up along her side. His fingers trace lines in her fur, ruffling the soft hairs up before smoothing them back down in slow, gentle movements. He inhales deeply and presses his nose into the crook of her neck. His eyes squeeze shut, memorizing every detail of her scent.

Pine. Honey. Flour. And there's some of him in there too. The heavy memory of their night together mingles in her sweet musk. He could stay there forever. Buried in Eliza's fur, he could forget about Kotz's expedition, his own smuggling, that damn wolf Peter and Eliza's association with him. But Jack can't stay there forever. The front door creaks open downstairs.

He pushes the covers off himself and stands. His paw lingers on Eliza's fur a moment longer.

"Jack--" She begins, but he silences her with a finger to his lips.

He forces his paw to leave her side and turns to his nightstand. A revolver lays ready. He takes the cold metal and moves to the door, positioning himself on one side.

The door pushes open. It blocks Jack from sight and two foxes enter, guns drawn. Jack waits for the first to enter, then slams the door shut, knocking the second fox to the ground. He levels his gun at the first.

"Don't," he growls. The first fox freezes. His gun half raised to Jack. "That means you too." Jack doesn't turn to the fox on the ground. He was reaching for his own gun which fell from his grasp when Jack hit him.

"Nothing personal, no?" The fox's accent is thick with the weight of Russian blood.

"Stand over by him," Jack orders and gestures with his gun. The Russian moves to his fallen friend. "And kick your guns over."

The fox on the ground reaches for his gun.

"Easy," Jack points his gun at him. "Kick them over."

The fox flattens his ears against his head and his lips pull back in a slight snarl, but he does as told. Jack bends over to pick up the two guns. He slides one farther away and keeps the other.

"Jack," Eliza half rises from the bed.

"Don't move," Jack growls, but does not point a gun at her.

"I--"

"And be quiet. I haven't decided what I'm going to do with you yet."

Eliza's ears flatten and she lowers herself back onto the bed.

Jack turns his attention to the two foxes, "Get out." He steps away from them. "And tell Peter we're even. Eliza will bring the locket back to him, and I'm leaving this Hellhole. Tell that bastard he's won. He can keep his whore," Jack forces himself to snarl that last word.

The two foxes stand and leave the room in silence. Jack waits in the doorway for them to descend the stairs. He keeps his ears perked until the door closes downstairs. They're gone. Good.

"Jack," Eliza sits up in bed and pulls the covers around her.

"They'll tell Peter you did your job," Jack says. Hopefully, that will be the end of it. He puts the two guns on the nightstand and bends to pick up his pants.

"Thank you."

Jack doesn't say anything. He doesn't need her thanks. She should know that. He pulls on his boots next.

"Is it true, what you said last night?" She asks.

Jack puts his arms through his shirt, "Of course it is, Eliza."

"Jack, I--"

"No, Eliza," Jack finishes buttoning his shirt and throws his coat over his arm. "You can't come with me. As much as I want you to, we can't be together. Peter won't let me stay here, and he'll come after us if you leave."

He picks up the pack, drops the locket on the ground, and steps into the doorway. Jack stops and looks over his shoulder. Eliza sits with tears in her eyes, her lower lip barely trembles, but she is not crying. Not yet, she would never let him see a tear fall, "I love you."

He can't say anything. If he does, he knows he will never leave. He'd run back to her and Peter would kill him. He'd kill her. He'd kill the love of his life just to get back at Jack. Fucking bastard.

Jack nods to himself, saying 'I love you' in his head one last time before leaving her in his bedroom.

It's enough. Isn't it? It has to be.

He walks down the staircase. The empty, wooden walls pass by him and offer only silence in farewell. He would never be back. There is no point in coming back. Eliza would not be waiting, Peter would make sure they would never meet again.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs. There're a few dirty dishes on the table, and the door's open. Damn foxes couldn't shut the door.

The outside air is cold and silent. Jack pulls on his coat and walks along the deserted street toward the north edge of Milford. The sun rises above the buildings to the east. It turns the morning clouds pink and orange, and casts short, bright rays of light to pierce the ice. A breeze carries the scent of an otter to him.

Kotz. Famed explorer and Jack's boss. He was good enough to work for. Paid well, looked the other way whenever Jack took on some extra luggage, and never asked him to do anything he wouldn't do himself. Everyone pulled their weight on an expedition. Not that there was anyone to not pull their weight. Kotz only took two others with him whenever he went out. There was Jack and a gray wolf named Cranchton -though Kotz called him Gray. The otter liked traveling light. Said it kept things simpler, and one could tell by looking at him that he meant it. The only thing not absolutely necessary that Kotz took with him was a red scarf knitted by his daughter.

Kotz is hunched over the ground beside Cranchton when Jack approaches. The otter's double checking everything in his pack. He tilts his head as Jack stops and looks over his shoulder. His short, brown nose twitches in the cold air and he huffs a greeting.

"'Bout time you showed."

Jack knows enough to not respond. He isn't late, but there's no point correcting him. Any time after the otter arrived was considered late.

"Give him a break, Kotz," Cranchton says.

"Don't side with the boy, Gray," Kotz stands and pulls his pack on. "It won't do him any good."

"I'm sorry sir," Jack says. "Got held up in town."

"It was that girl wasn't it?" Cranchton smiles.

Jack tightens his pack across his shoulders, "Yeah, something like that."

"Hey! Pup no longer, eh?" Cranchton punches him in the arm, "A real wolf now."

"No howling," Kotz orders.

"But... sir?" Jack whimpers.

Kotz glares at them, then pulls his scarf over his mouth and mumbles, "Canines," as if it's a curse.

Cranchton laughs and flashes his teeth in the morning light, "Otters," he grumbles back, though his own curse lacks any bite.

"Head out," Kotz orders.

"Yes, sir," Jack takes the lead.

They would travel north until reaching Clear Lake, then they'd cross the frozen water and cut west to Mt. Laurel and from there they'd follow the base of the Central Coast Range until crossing into English land. From there it was a straight shot up through a few hundred miles of tundra to reach the Yukon. The trip up would take about two months. Then, the real work would begin. They were tasked with mapping the Yukon River and determining if there was anything worth having up there. That was expected to take about four months meaning the whole thing would be close to eight months in total.

"Who was she?" Cranchton asks, falling into step beside Jack. "From the look of it, you two knew each other."

"We grew up together," Jack says.

"Oh," Cranchton smiles. His tail swings with each step. "So, you two know each other well?"

Small hills of white snow roll on either side of the road. The path ahead is clear of any obstacle or reason for distraction. No way out of Cranchton's questions.

"She's engaged to another wolf." No reason to have Cranchton read anything into the situation. He and Eliza... it was best to leave it behind.

"Is that going to stop you?" Cranchton asks. "From the smell of things, it didn't last night, so what does it matter?"

"Gray!" Kotz growls.

"Oh, go read a book," Cranchton turns and walks backward as he talks. "Our little pup is in love, and his girl's been engaged to someone else. That doesn't mean anything, but the fact he has to win her and rescue her from a life of misery with some mangy old mutt. It's a classic story. Straight from the plays."

"That doesn't change the fact she's someone else's."

"Hey," Jack protests. Eliza doesn't belong to anyone. That sorry excuse for a wolf Peter could never own Eliza. Even if they were married, she would never be his.

"That can change," Cranchton ignores Jack's protest. "What matters is they love each other. You do love each other, right?" Jack nods. "And this wolf she's engaged to, does she love him?"

Does she? Eliza couldn't love Peter, but she said he'd changed. She said he was a good guy. As if that were possible. "No. She doesn't."

"How can you be sure?" Kotz asked. "What if they love each other, and this isn't a story," he glares at Cranchton, "where the boy saves the girl from a broken marriage."

"The three of us grew up together," Jack explained. "Eliza and I met in a fight with Peter."

"See?" Cranchton beamed. His teeth flashed in the early light. "You saved Eliza, that's the girl, right?"

Jack nods, "But she saved me, actually."

"Ohhh--!" Cranchton slips on a patch of ice. He catches himself before he can fall, but the look of confusion remains on his face when he straightens.

"Peter, the wolf she's marrying, got the jump on me. He starts kicking me in the side, but before I know it this girl runs up from behind and shoves him down. When he tries to get up, she knocks him back down."

Kotz chuckles behind him.

"After that, we stuck together most of the time. Peter and his friends would try to attack us if we were ever separate. They tried taking us both on once."

"Once," Cranchton laughed. "That's my pup!"

The path slopes down to the lake. Cranchton turns to face back forward.

A ring of trees surrounds the far side of the ice. A shack sits on the edge of the water. Its frozen boards extend trapped over the ice. Inside are supplies: fire starting kits, blankets, and a change of clothes. They are for if someone is unlucky enough to fall through the ice.

There are still a few weeks left until the ice would start to melt and the crossing would become too dangerous, but the sight of the shack unnerves Jack. It shows the ice had broken under enough travelers to warrant its presence.

The three descend along the slope to Clear Lake. Wind lifts and pushes snakes of loose snow across the surface of the ice. They stop at the edge of the ice. Jack unties a long stick from his pack and presses it into the ice. He leans against the polished wood and holds his weight onto its point. The ice doesn't crack. He steps out onto the frozen lake.

Kotz follows a few steps behind him, and Cranchton follows afterward. This put their heaviest member at the front and distributed their weight with the lightest in the middle. At least that was what Kotz said before crossing their first frozen body of water months ago. Jack had just taken the otter's word on that.

The ice creaks beneath his steps as he moves forward, but no cracks appear. Progress is slow. For every step Jack takes, he checks to see if the ice will hold his weight. It does without much complaint, but why risk it?

The ice cracks in the middle of the lake. It's just a small crack. Not enough to make him scream, but unsettling nonetheless.

"Kotz," Jack calls. "Ice is a little weak here. I say we move a little on down before crossing."

"Alright," Kotz says.

Jack presses the stick into the ice to his left. He leans against it. The stench of two foxes rolls over him.

Crack.

The ring of a gunshot echoes across the lake. Ice chips fly in the air.

Jack turns and pulls his gun. Three figures stand halfway down the slope to the lake. Peter.

"Off the ice!" Kotz shouts.

A bullet hits the ice beside Jack. Water splashes up through the hole. Cracks snap out around it. The groan of ice masks the next shot. Jack steps back and fires a shot at the figures. Kotz and Cranchton run toward him. Each of their steps crumbles the ice beneath them.

Kotz grunts. He jerks forward. Blood spurts from his coat and smears along the ice as he slides.

"Kotz!" Jack screams. His next shot hits one of the figures. A fox judging by his scream.

He runs toward Kotz. Blood drips through fingers clutched to his side and melts the ice beneath him.

"Hang on, Kotz." Jack tears the scarf from the otter's neck. Kotz groans as Jack wraps it around his side.

Another figure appears at the crest of the hill. Eliza?

Air rushes from Jack's chest. He's shoved backward. Kotz falls from his grasp, his scarf clings to Jack's paw.

"Fuck," Cranchton curses. "Fu--" His head snaps to the side, blood and flecks of brain spill from the wound, and he collapses.

The top figure's rifle flashes. The other fox is struck in the back. He tumbles down the hill, spreading red patches of blood where he falls.

Cranchton slams into the ice. It shatters beneath him and cracks of lightning shoot out, rupturing beneath Jack. Water bubbles up around him and a final rifle roar rings the call of Peter's death.

Eliza runs down toward the lake. Snow billows up with her sliding steps, but she cannot reach them in time. Kotz slips through the ice. The water claws at Jack's clothes. His legs sink into the red water and he gasps a final breath before the lake closes over him, trapping him in the black. His eyes close, his muzzle opens, and bubbles leak from his lips in numb convulsion.

---

Jack's eyes adjusted to the dark room. The only light was from the small window in the door and a cheap lamp hanging on the wall. The dust scarred mirror caught the gaslight and reflected the mirage of empty barstools. A horse leaned over the faded wood. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a cigarette hung from his lips. He tilted his head up in recognition of Jack, but didn't say anything.

The warmth of the smoke filled Jack's nostrils. He closed his eyes and flattened his ears, tilting his snout back to engorge in the acrid scent of safety. The comforting burn of smoke tingled his nose, but he didn't care. He would be missing it soon enough. He had eight months exploring done, and after tonight, he was heading back out for another eight of licking the ice from his fur and trying to build fires from nothing but frozen twigs.

"Fuck you." The curse broke Jack from the smoke's spell. He opened his eyes. A beaver threw his cards down onto the table across the room. They could be the ones he was meeting. The horse didn't react at all. The beaver lost a lot then. Good. That meant Jack would earn some money tonight.

Kotz clapped a paw on Jack's shoulder, "Thought we'd lost you for a moment."

Jack smiled, turned, and grasped the Otter's other paw.

"What have you been up to, boy?" Kotz asked.

"Sleeping by the fire'd be my guess," Cranchton appeared beside the otter.

"Something like that, yeah." Jack didn't say anything more. Better to leave it to their imagination than get caught in a lie. Kotz never interfered with his side work, but that didn't mean he approved of it by any means.

"Did that myself the first day."

"Oh?" Jack nudged the gray wolf and smiled. "Where'd you sleep the other nights?"

Cranchton followed the lead. He laughed and shook his head, "A wolf doesn't tell."

"Especially not when he's spent the night alone," Kotz said.

"Kotz!" Cranchton's eyes widened and his mouth hung open. "God damn. I mean," he shook his head and puffed out a short breath, "Damn. That hurt a little."

The otter smiled and gestured for the speechless wolves to follow him.

Jack was the first to move, Cranchton was still frozen in place.

Kotz led them to a table near the back of the empty room.

Two rabbits sat with an elk and the cursing beaver. The beaver puffed on a pipe. Smoke flared out from the gnawed wood in small clouds. He glanced down at his pair of cards before sliding a few coins into the middle.

Both rabbits tossed their hands in immediately. Their noses twitched and one waved a paw in front of his face while the other drummed his fingers into small grooves in the table. It must have been his usual spot. The depressions were a good half an inch deep, and would probably reach the full inch by the end of the night at the pace the rabbit's paw hit them.

The elk laughed and added his coins to the middle of the table, "Pair o' two's, huh, Harry?"

"Three's this time," the beaver -Harry--pulled the pipe from his mouth.

The rabbit dealt the next card. Harry slapped his tail on the back of the chair, and the elk knocked on the table with his paw. The rabbit slid out the last card.

"Check."

The elk furrowed his brow and looked over at Harry's misshapen pile of coins. He smiled and flicked one coin into the center.

"Fuck you," Harry cursed. He plopped the pipe back into his mouth and blew smoke angrily as he dug through his stack.

"You could just fold," the elk suggested.

"Hell I will," Harry growled.

The rabbit's ears flicked to point at us. His fingers stopped drumming. His paw disappeared from the table and nudged the other rabbit. Both turned to stare at the newcomers.

"Easy boys," Kotz said. "This is Jack, and that's Cranchton. They're here to give you their money."

The first rabbit chuckled the other nodded his head in a short burst of fur then returned his paw to beating a hole in the table.

"Aha!" Harry held a small coin in the air before throwing it with the other coins in the middle of the table. "Show 'em."

The elk flipped over his cards.

"Fuck," Harry sunk into his chair. "Fucking, fuck."

The elk chuckled and swept a paw across the table, adding the coins to his own stack.

Harry glanced toward Kotz, "Finally, my good luck charm's here."

"Malcolm's not working for you tonight?" Kotz asked.

Malcolm stopped drumming his fingers and looked at Harry, his ears flattened.

"Fucking Smith keeps taking what should be mine."

"Not my fault you can't win," Smith said.

Harry pulled the pipe from his mouth, "Fuck you."

"He's lost the last four paws," the other rabbit said. "Take a seat," he kicked out the chair beside him for Jack to sit in.

"Thanks," Jack let himself relax on the hard wood.

"Matthew," the rabbit said. He turned to the table and spit the cards from his paw, two to each member.

"Fucking Christ," Harry throws his cards in the middle. "You're not dealing again."

The paw ended quickly. Both rabbits folded at the first bet. Cranchton ended up winning with three queens. Jack won the next two.

His streak ended though with the next paw. Jack was dealt a three and a nine, off suit of course. Figured. He folded with the rabbits at the first bet -they had not bet since Jack arrived.

Harry laughed and sucked on his pipe, "Everyone loses sometime, pup."

A wolf passed the window. The ghostly image of her face flashed across the mirror. Eliza?

Jack stood, "I'm getting a drink."

"Oh, fuck, don't take it like that."

"You want anything?" Jack asked. "After that last paw, figure it's the least I can do."

Harry laughed and reached for the deck to continue dealing, "Fuck, Kotz! You find the good ones. But, I'm good pup. You need to save your money, 'cause I'm gonna win it all..."

He smacked his tail on the chair, "Dammit! Fucking fuck." He tossed his cards onto the table. Two and seven. Off suit.

Jack smirked as he headed toward the door. That beaver couldn't catch a break.

Jack headed toward the door. As he got closer, though, he could see Eliza talking outside. A wolf leaned into her, was that Peter? Jack couldn't tell, the wolf had his face turned from the window. Eliza shook her head. Jack walked to the bar, he leaned on the counter, but kept his eyes trained outside. It could be Peter. Hard to tell. The wolf said something else. Eliza took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and nodded. The wolf's paw rose to her shoulder. It lingered on her, his fingers rubbed against her coat before pulling away as the wolf left. Damn, it was Peter.

"You gonna order something, or you just wasting my time?" the horse behind the bar asked.

"Whatever you've got that's cheap," Jack placed money on the counter. When he turned back to the window, Eliza had vanished.

He cursed under his breath. What was Peter up to?

The door opened, Eliza bustled into the room. The horse slid a glass into Jack's paw.

He glanced toward it, the dark brown liquid sloshed against the sides of the glass, then he looked back to Eliza. He locked eyes with her, "Eliza?" He asked.

She hesitated, but didn't look surprised to see him. Her ears didn't flick at all and her tail hung unmoving behind her.

"Jack?" Her ears stuck up, but her tail didn't move an inch. Why wasn't she surprised? She ran toward him, "Jack! What are you doing here?"

She embraced him. Her scent overwhelmed any questions he had. He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her into himself.

"It's been too long, Eliza."

"I know," she pulled from him. "What's it been, two years?"

Two years, nine months since they last said goodbye.

"Something like that."

"And just where have you been, then? I heard you were exploring with the great Otter Von Kotz."

"Yeah, about that," Jack ran a paw over his head, scratching at his ears, "I'm with him now, actually. We're about to--" "No!" Eliza spotted the otter in the corner. "Is that him?" Her eyes wide.

Jack nodded, "We're leaving tomorrow morning for another expedition."

"That's... I can't..." Eliza looked from Jack to Kotz and back again. Jack smiled, he still wasn't used to that reaction. He doubted he ever would be.

"Want to meet him?"

"Yes!" Eliza squealed.

"Let's go," Jack started to turn.

"Wait," Eliza put a paw on his arm. "Can we talk first? We haven't seen each other in two years, Jack. There's so much to talk about."

He laughed, "You've got that right. I heard a rumor that you're engaged now."

Eliza lowered her eyes, her ears fell with them, "You heard about that?"

Jack nodded, and Eliza sighed.

"He's better now."

Jack grunted, "So, he doesn't push you into the mud anymore?"

"He doesn't do that anymore."

"Does he still pull your ears?" "We were nine, Jack. And he's apologized for that."

If only he believed that. Eliza deserved more than Peter could ever offer. She needed someone who could protect her, someone who wasn't under the thumb of that thug, Fitzgerald.

"Come on, Jack, he's," her ears drooped as she searched for the right words, "he's a good guy now. Really."

"So, he's not working for Fitzgerald?"

Her ears flattened completely. Dammit.

"He's a good guy," she repeated.

He could fix this. She shouldn't be sad, not if he could help it.

"I'd love to be proven wrong. Where is he on a night like this, anyways?"

"Making a delivery for the old man."

Why did she lie? Jack pushed the thought from his head, "Jesus, his father's still running the shop?" Eliza nodded. Her eyes drifted up from the floor to meet Jacks. How had they let two years pass between them?

It was his own fault, Jack felt that familiar twang of guilt in his chest as Eliza told him about everything that had happened in Milford since he'd left. If only he'd waited. He could have waited to ask for her paw in marriage, or once father told him no, he could have waited another three months for the jack-ass to get himself killed in a bar fight. But no. He'd run away. He left her alone and joined up with Kotz and by the time he managed to find his way back to Milford it was too late. She'd moved on and forgotten about him.

It was better this way. Wasn't it?

"Can you believe it?" Eliza asked.

"No," Jack forced his ears up before she could notice them sinking into his fur. He could not believe Peter's father had chased a thieving moose completely out of town by himself, but that's not the only thing he'd answered. It wasn't worth it. His name wouldn't be remembered with Kotz's or even Cranchton's. He wasn't going to get rich with them either. There wasn't a gold mine at the end of their trail, only another sheet of ice to explore. There wasn't anything for him.

Maybe that's why he stole the locket from Peter. It made him something else than the wolf he was. He'd imagined himself a thief of legend when he snuck it off Peter. The dumb wolf was passed out, so there wasn't any risk or even the satisfaction of seeing the look on his face when he realized he'd been robbed, and it was just a worthless trinket. The clasp was even broken so that it could not open, but it was something. A small piece of revenge for taking Eliza, for being there when he wasn't. It would have been enough to last him the next eight months of ice, but then Eliza had walked in. She'd smiled at him, embraced him, and her scent -God her scent burrowed into his nose, latched itself into his brain so all he'd be able to smell out on the ice would be her. His greatest mistake.

"I should've stayed," he whispered. The weight of his words sagged Eliza's ears.

"Yeah," she said, her voice soft, "you should have."

"Eliza, I'm--"

"Jack, don't. I know why you left. And as much as I wish you hadn't there's no changing that. What's done is done. I'm engaged to Peter."

Oh. Jack's ears fell against his head. His tail hung unmoving, it's tip curled between his legs.

"Ah, fuck," Eliza cursed.

Jack tilted his head up to see her. She grabbed his coat and pulled him close. Their muzzles locked and the warmth of her breath filled his head. His arms circled her waist and held her against him. She leaned back against his embrace and tilted her snout so their noses pressed against one another, "Dammit, Jack. God dammit, why'd you have to go?"

Because he couldn't be with her. Because he thought a life on the move would be better. Because he thought he could replace the ghost of their life with maps and adventure. Because he was a fool.

"I fucked up, Eliza. I know I did."

She laughed, her paws traced the neck of his coat up to the base of his snout, "Well, good. So, long as you know that."

She guided his muzzle up for another kiss.

"That's my pup!" Cranchton shouted from the table. He tilted his head back and barked a short howl. The two rabbits joined in and pounded their paws on the table. Kotz smiled, but made no movement other than to toss his paw into the middle of the table.

"Want to meet them?" Jack asked.

"God no. Not now," Eliza shook her head, her ears flattened as she spared a glance over black fur toward the table. "Not after this."

"Alright."

Her fur wilted with her sagging shoulders and tail. Did she regret kissing him? A small part of Eliza probably wanted to be loyal to Peter. And that small part didn't want her to kiss him again. Well, fuck that part.

"Maybe in the morning."

Jack's tail twitched, And a grin spread across his muzzle, looked like the small part lost. "There's going to be a morning, huh?"

Eliza hesitated. No, there was something else. There had to be. Why had she been talking to Peter before coming in? She was hiding something. That was clear. Would Peter send her after him?

"Of course. Why? You think you can sneak out afterwards?"

She wanted to take him home. To her home. Maybe Peter had sent her to bring Jack to him. There was a way to test that idea.

"And trust you to my bedroom all alone?"

"Oh? Is there something you're hiding from me?"

Could Peter know he took the locket? Maybe Eliza was just trying to get him to take her to it. But that couldn't be it. If that were true, Peter would just send some of his foxes after him.

"Only a few love letters. "Jack forced his ears to stay perked up as they left the bar and headed for the door. The doubts built in his head. Why was Eliza here? What if Peter were trapping him? But Eliza laughed. Her smiling fangs chased away all those thoughts.

"I should've known you'd have girls on the trail," she shook her head. "Traveling with a famous explorer must draw in all the ladies in waiting."

"Like a gnat to a campfire." Jack pushed on the cold iron of the door's handle. The cold wind blew the last doubts from his mind. It didn't matter why she came to the bar that night. "But you're the only one. There's no other wolf for me Eliza."

Her paws encircled him. They squeezed against his sides as she held herself against his chest.

---

Eliza's grip stings and bites into his side.

The howling wind snaps in the air and sprays ice into his snout. He coughs up a mouthful of water and scrabbles along the fractured edge. Strong arms help lift Jack from the freezing blood's embrace. His back hits the cracking ice. His rescuer pulls herself onto the ice beside him. She lands gasping on his arm and rolls to the side.

---

The bed creaked beneath Eliza as she slipped from Jack's embrace. He was... right? That didn't seem right. Eliza was there for the locket. Peter sent her for it, but why had she said yes? And why had Peter told her to fuck him, or had she disobeyed him on that point? Did it matter? Of course it did.

She had to have wanted this. Eliza would not have done it otherwise. She certainly would not have waited until for so long if she didn't enjoy being held by Jack. Right? Or maybe she just waited until she thought he was asleep. But no. No, she had to have wanted this. It had to have been her decision.

Peter never would have told her to fuck Jack. He wouldn't. That meant Eliza had to have wanted this. She loved him and was willing to risk her betrothed's rage for him. Unless the locket was that important to Peter. Maybe there was something locked inside he needed. Maybe they had all changed over the years.

The wooden bed groaned beneath her. Eliza froze. Her feet hung from the bed. Jack wanted to touch her. Caress her soft brown fur. Hold her until the sun rose, but he couldn't lift his arm. He couldn't reach out only to have her pull away, confirm why she was here, prove to himself the only reason she was here was for love of Peter. He couldn't.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, "It's in my pack. Folded in with the blanket."

"Jack," Her breath caught in the silence of the room.

"I know, Eliza," his voice echoed in his head.

The bed creaked and shifted beneath him. Eliza's paw rested on his arm, "You knew? Why didn't you run again?"

Jack opened his eyes. Eliza leaned over him, one arm braced herself up while the held onto him. Her eyes stared down. Not meeting his own, they fixed onto the covers in between them. The cruel moonlight revealed her wet cheeks.

"I love you, always have, and..." her paw rose from his arm and she sniffed and wiped her face. Jack sat up, he pulled her paw down and placed his own beneath her muzzle. A finger rubbed a tear away before it could stain her fur. "...and I wanted to be with you. One last time. Eliza, I'd give anything to not have left, but I can't change that. I can't tell that sorry excuse of a wolf to wait, and I can't change what I did. All I could do was--"

Eliza fell against him, "I'm sorry, Jack," she sobbed. Her arms shook as they embraced him.

A laugh slipped from his muzzle before he could stop it. "I wanted this, Eliza. It's all I ever wanted."

Eliza's heartbeat matched his own. Jack buried his snout in her neck. He held his eyes closed and shut everything away save for her scent and the sound of her breath, the heat of her fur. But he knew he could not hold her forever. She would have to leave, return to Peter, give him the locket, and forget this night ever happened.

"Eliza," her name fell from his lips as a breath. "Stay. Please, don't go."

"Jack," his name warms his chest faster than any fire. "I can't. He'll send someone if I don't go back. I've already been gone too long. We weren't supposed to..." She pulls herself from him. A paw rests on the side of his head. Her blue eyes -God dammit all! He would do anything to keep those eyes in his life, but he can't. There's nothing he could do. "I was just supposed to take the locket from you and bring it to Fitzgerald."

"Stay with me until morning." The news of the locket's owner does not phase Jack. It did not matter who it belonged to, or what was going to happen to him because he stole it. All that mattered was tonight and getting to hold Eliza.

"Jack--"

"He'll send someone after me whatever happens. Please, Eliza," he took her paw in his own. "Stay with me until they come. Let me have this one night with you, please."

A tear slid from her eye. She nodded. The bed voiced its pleasure as the two lay back down. Their fur intertwined beneath the covers. She lay with her head on his chest, he with one arm around her back.

They lay in silence, broken only by the rise and fall of their breath. It could have been like this forever. He could have had her every night, but he was a coward. He knew that, and this was his punishment. A single night to haunt his dreams. A reminder of what could have been. A promise that he would never have the warmth of her embrace again.

He'd lost Eliza the moment he fled Milford, and he'd come to live with that. He'd said she did not love him. If she did, then God would not have let her father say no. But, now he knew differently. They were meant to be. They could have been together, but he was afraid. He was a coward who couldn't bear the idea of Eliza following her father's wishes, and so he'd run and told himself she never loved him and made himself believe it was for the better, but now he knew she loved him. She loved him.

"Jack?" She did not move her head to look up at him. Remember when we first met?"

"We promised we'd never leave each other," Jack said.

"I want to go with you. We can be across Clear Lake before Peter knows what's happened."

If only they could. They used to joke it was them against the world. That they would run away together and never look back, or they would stand up to Peter and show Fitzgerald that they weren't afraid of him, but they were pups back then. Now, now things were different. Peter wouldn't stop at pushing Eliza into the mud, and Fitzgerald wouldn't just laugh at them and call them stupid pups before sending them on their way with a cuff of the head. They would be killed.

No, Jack would not let that happen to her.

He shifted himself down a little on the bed so his snout rested on the top of her head. He kissed her and breathes, "I love you."

Her tail moved in the bed, she pulled her head up and turned to him. One paw rested on his chest while the other propped herself up on the bed. Her muzzle open in a smile.

"But, we can't run away together. He'll come after us, and I can't put you in danger like that. It won't be like when we were pups and the only thing that'll happen if he catches us is he'll push you down and hit me. He'll kill us. He'll kill you, and I won't -I can't let that happen, Eliza. I can't let you give up what you have here just for a life on the run with me."

"But--"

"No, Eliza. I... I made my choice when I ran away two years ago. I can't let you get hurt for my mistake."

Her head bowed down. Her breathing caught as she tried to say something. She nodded instead and lay down beside him. Jack pulled her against him and rubbed a paw along her side.

Hot tears dripped from her eyes. The sound of metal picks against iron caused Jack's ears to twitch and the faint smell of two foxes reached his nose.

"Jack," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Funny how it's not a fire that keeps you going. It's not a thick coat that keeps the ice from burrowing into your heart, or the flask of whiskey you have tucked against your chest for when clouds block out the stars and that pitiful fire fails to heat your blood that helps you survive the night. Hell, it's not even the promise of a warm bed on the other side of the journey that keeps you putting one foot after the other. It's this. It's her, the lost love of your life and the hope that one day you'll get to see her again. That's what keeps you going.