A small piece of a scene from COMPASS FOR THE LOST with Thorne and Poplar. I hope you enjoy it.
***
Thorne closed his eyes, shutting out the dark sky and uneasy waves that lashed their rocky perch. He needed all his concentration for Poplar. He wasn't sure what he was more afraid of -- that he would be faced by his own life without her or that she would end up abandoned once he was gone.
She whimpered softly without breaking into his thoughts and pressed her soft toy into his hands. Her absolute trust in him shook him to his core. His breathing eased. He clutched the toy in one hand and placed his other palm on the crown of her head. He wasn't alone. No matter what happened next, he would always have her with him, just as Sharrah would always be a part of his life.
He wished it hadn't taken him this long to understand.
::not your fault:: Poplar's mind-voice held a hint of smugness. ::humans learn slow::
::So we do:: He also should have known that even when he tried to hold his thoughts, Poplar could still read him.
A rogue wave splashed over their rock, leaving them both shivering. No more time to waste. He opened his eyes to focus on Poplar. From the outside, just a scrappy looking smallish dog with wiry white fur. Some brown splotches on one ear and her rump. A tail that communicated her mood. Nothing special. He had seen dozens of such strays, usually on the outskirts of small villages or patrolling farmers' barns.
The few dogs Thorne had encountered on Boston's streets were simple animals. Little different from the lifestock on his world. None were like her. In his mind's eye, he saw her as a pup. And here she still was, fully grown, but not much changed over the long years. It was a puzzle he didn't want to consider too carefully.
::hurry:: she whispered, as if afraid to break his concentration.
Thorne would have to accept this, too. But how could he examine Poplar's future without peering too closely at her impossibility?
::you think too much::
The water around them had risen to halfway up the rocks. He pulled his feet up to keep them from getting soaked. ::I know. I'm sorry.::
She pulled away from his hand, shook, and reached up to lick his nose. ::home::
Funny how he knew she didn't mean the little cottage they had been burned out of. ::Home,:: Thorne agreed. She was his home. They were together here and now. That was enough. Thorne let his body relax and opened his mind to all her myriad possibilities.
He gasped. His hands spasmed around Poplar's small toy.
Everything he could see was tinted the color of honey. The same shade as the light of the setting sun that had lit the poplar tree the day he found her. Every life Poplar had touched was bathed in gold. Reina. Melissa. Stirling. Martin. Thorne studied himself through her senses and he was not the weary, worn out man he knew himself to be.
It was overwhelming. Not in the way that trying to scry in the face of infinite futures had been, but in the simplicity and beauty of her love. For them. For him. Tears streaked down his cheeks, their warmth in contrast to the cold sea spray.
Poplar was the center of a sphere that somehow contained them all, even as they were all scattered across the multiverse. There was no possibility where she didn't connect each one to the other, though Thorne couldn't see how, precisely, and beyond the glow was a darkness so profound he could scry no future through it. His hands shook.
Thorne had never felt so powerless.
Poplar's presence was as constant as a heartbeat.
He had never felt so protected.
Weeping openly now and without shame, he reached for her. Poplar curled up in his lap and yawned as if this were a place of warmth and light and she would never leave it.
