Rose’s soft, sweet voice roused Fenrir awake from his slumber. He lightly opened his tired eyes, which for some reason, perhaps due to the dream, had pupils of the wolf. If Rose hadn’t squeezed her own eyes shut, she may have noticed this odd occurrence. With a quick blink, his eyes returned to normal, accommodating that of his human form.

He saw her, nervously standing in the half-open doorway. Compared to that of the night before, Rose wore a simple dress, but she was still all the most beautiful to him. He did not speak, taking a moment to gaze upon her as she yet to realize he had awoken. He calmly sat up on his bed and face toward her; placing feet on the floor, elbows resting on knees.

“[i]Rose…[/i]” he said tenderly, eyes half open, still in an elated drowsy state. “[i]…are you… but a dream?[/i]” Recognizing that he was still partially asleep, Fenrir rubbed his eyes. “I mean…” quickly he interjected, realizing what he just said may have sounded rather silly, “Did the night treat you well?” The question he had first planned to ask, hoping the events of last night had not befallen her Ill.