Each day Emerin would hear a peculiar thing from the lone hills near the ocean’s clouds: Singing. Soft as the breeze and sad as nightfall. If the wind was good, and their ears listened well they could hear the words sung:
“ We could have been a pair, Samsuro. ”
They would hear this as the sun set. One day they walked up the hill’s path so that when they reached the cliff’s edge they found a wolf singing these words. Twisting in the wind, they walked in circles and sang.
“ I tried to grow wings so that we could fly together, but you flew on without me. We could have been a pair, Samsuro. ”
Emerin had brought with them a stringed instrument, which they had known well to play, and that is what they did. They plucked each and every string along to the wolf’s sad voice.
“ I tried to find my eyes so we could see the world, but you saw somewhere else without me. We could have been a pair, Samsuro. ”
As the wolf sang and the human played, the song sounded less and less somber, but more, and more gentle.
“ I have this body, I have this mind. I have this life, and wherever you are, I hope you are happy, and that you are safe, Samsuro. ”
When the wolf had stopped singing, it looked at Emerin and smiled.
“ …You play that instrument well. Much better than Samsuro. ”
