HELLO EVERYONE! I have issues, that's all there is to it, I feel like a fail author and my updating credit/rep is completely ruined, LOL. I feel bad for Megan's inspiration, and for you guys, keeping you waiting. Suffice it to say, these things ARE tough to write, these serial fics, for me at least. I've realized I'm a do-it-as-a-oneshot-and-publish kinda girl, and I've had a lot of emotional drama these past months, things getting in the way of my writing...AHEM.

I know a lot of you were like can't wait for more, etc., but me and Megan decided a WHILE back that this would be a four-shot, nothing more. So this is actually the end, the epilogue to all the wolfy bidness that has been posted so far. Sorry, but I am so glad you've all enjoyed it so immensely so far.=

We'll get to the actual chap in a moment, alright? xD I just need to say that I love all of your support, but this fic came about as a gift to Megan, and I hope it's good enough for her. She's a great friend, ladies and gents, and this fic in its entirety is dedicated to her awesomeness. Someday she'll find a love as epic as Megan and Tyler's in this story. I love you, Volves, and I hope I did right by the Myler ship! And with tears in my eyes, I bid you all, ENJOY!

It was shortly after sunrise when Megan awoke, rousing as a charred log collapsed in the fireplace, scattering ashes and dimming the light of the fire further.

Momentarily disoriented, it took her a moment to recall her surroundings, recognize the ornamental animal heads mounted on the walls, realize whose hard, muscled arm was wrapped tightly around her bare waist...Wait, what? Memories of the previous night came flooding back, and Megan's cheeks burned as her mind really grasped what had transpired between her and Tyler.

He'd been...a thorough lover, she thought, a grin coming unbidden to her face even as she winced at the aches surfacing in her limbs. He'd never once hurt her, she'd never felt a moment's fear once she'd made her decision. Even now, all she felt was a blissful peace of mind, body (except for minor aches), heart. She hadn't made a mistake.

Easing free from Tyler's grip proved tricky; his subconscious reluctance to release her was adorable, even as he still slept. She ended up more or less wrenching his arm off and slithering out of reach, and he rolled over, muttering incoherently and baring enough flesh to tempt her all over again.

Finally standing, Megan shivered in the absence of heat, as the fire was sputtering, clinging to life; she quickly snagged a woven blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around herself, admiring the intricate native designs covering it. She blinked down at Tyler for a moment, noting that they'd slept on...the floor, and she hadn't even noticed. It was definitely a new thing for her, she thought, snickering quietly to herself as she edged towards her backpack and clothes.

When she was fully dressed and cleaned up a bit, she appraised the situation. She needed to leave, that was the bottom line. As great as this adventure had been, towards the end at least, she had to go. Contact with the outside world was a priority, she'd been gone too long. School, her parents, work...it all awaited. Or so she told herself in a vain attempt to silence the voice in the back of her mind that whispered, "coward", as she stared at Tyler's sleeping form.

Did she wake him and request he sniff out the trail? Should she be the one-night stand who demanded to be taken to her car at six o'clock the next morning? She cringed at the thought, then her eyes fell upon the small table immediately inside the cabin's front door. A small glint caused by a stray ray of morning light drew her closer, and she realized it was a laminated, durable map that met her eyes. A compass lay next to it, and a pink highlighter marker.

None of that had been there before. Frowning, Megan cautiously unfolded the map, spotting the cabin's location clearly marked in neon pink ink, as well as the foot-route back to the trailhead and highway. Megan could only stare, her eyes roving the map, finally landing on a bit of writing on an unneeded part of it.

In black ink, a masculine hand had scrawled, "I know it's time for you to go. I was never good at good-byes, so I hope you take this the right way, me leading you in the right direction. We didn't have long, Megan, but I feel like you're branded on me now, somehow. Sounds crazy right? Exactly why I'll stick to this note, it looks less nuts on paper, I'm telling myself. Take care of yourself, on your way back and once you're back in Virginia, too. Maybe we'll meet again someday. Aroo. -Tyler."

She was unaware her eyes had teared up until a tiny droplet hit the map with a small patter, and she had to catch it quickly so it didn't smear her marked path. Megan drew a shuddering breath, once again amazed at what had happened to her in so little time, and the...extent of these feelings that had appeared, and...the list went on. Her thoughts sounded like the incoherent ramblings of a dream diary or something, ugh. What had happened was like a fairytale...

She shook her head at the bitter thought that she was abandoning Prince Charming; this had to happen, and he'd admitted it as well, albeit on paper. It did have to happen, he was exiled to the woods or whatever, she was working on her education...It'd never work, and she had to get home now, in any case, for the time being...Her family and friends were probably worrying like crazy.

Listing off these mental bulletin points was enough to strengthen her conviction, so, compass and map in hand, backpacked secured, Megan stepped toward the door.

Her hand abruptly fell from reaching toward the doorknob, and she turned to dart back towards the couch. Unable to resist, her hand found the slumbering Tyler's hair, stroking the thick, dark strands as she pressed a kiss to his chiseled jaw. He made a primitive sound, a low whimper, his face leaning into her touch.

She drew back as if burned, knowing it was dangerous to linger. Her clothes would be off in less than a minute if she gave herself half a chance, so Megan backed towards the door, quietly wrenching it open, thankful as hell for the well-oiled hinges as she stepped into the brisk morning air.

The sun had barely crested the horizon; she'd slept for what, maybe two hours tops? Man, had he made her feel great; she hardly felt any fatigue at all, despite braving the elements at such an early hour.

Megan took a deep breath, refreshed by the cool air entering her lungs, and, raising the map and compass, started forward.

~About three months later~

It was mid-December, and it'd already been a hell of a winter for Charlottesville, Virginia, and the surrounding area. Early snow, icy conditions ever-present, pelting rain when the temperatures saw fit to rise; they'd had it all, weather-wise, and it made for generally less than delightful moods for everyone around.

"Damnit!" Megan exclaimed, as she stood outside her car in the freezing, early-morning chill. She'd locked her keys inside, distracted as she'd been maneuvering her thermos of tea out of the passenger side, where it'd toppled to the floor, thankfully not spilling. Life was out to get her, she had decided, and she made that announcement to a flock of crows pecking at the sidewalk a few yards away.

They of course ignored her, infuriating Megan further. A bunch of birds couldn't be bothered with her problems, much less any of the more humanoid beings in her life.

Since she'd returned from her Washington trip, things had been different. Her life was so damn hectic. She was working full-time as a receptionist in a medical facility, she was cramming classes in between those shifts, and her weekends were filled with studying and sleep, if she could manage it. Flashcards, review packets, and cups of coffee were her only friends at the moment.

And yet, through it all...Thoughts of Tyler managed to prevail. Even when her mind was consciously focused on a task or problem, her need for him seemed to shadow her thoughts. It was ridiculous, she told herself, completely nuts, and she threw every shred of logic and reason she could think of at herself, and still...She couldn't leave it alone. This wasn't a math problem where she could look at it and instantly have the solution and have it fit, this couldn't be explained scientifically...She was so screwed.

Odds were, the guy had forgotten all about her, and had undoubtedly "rescued" several more damsels in distress in the time since she'd returned...Or so she told herself, but in reality, her brain cringed at that thought, out of shame; she had the oddest feeling that Tyler would never do that. But then again, she was obsessed, clearly. Sometimes she thought she saw him around, leaving a grocery aisle by the opposite end as she entered it, passing her on the street, sitting against the window in a bus that passed her...

Megan shook her head violently, spewing forth another litany of curses, dragging herself back to the moment, to the frigid air, and the dilemma of her locked car. Fumbling around in her purse for her phone to call her parents, who kept a spare at the house for her, her fingers finally latched onto the silicon case of her iPhone, only to send it flying from her grasp as she whipped it out. The phone landed with a small tinkling sound, and went skittering across the icy pavement, halting squarely in the middle of the parking lot. Everyone would see her retrieving it. And that ominous little cracking noise.

Fighting back tears, Megan finally shoved her thermos and purse on the roof of her car, sniffling miserably as she stepped carefully towards the phone lying so innocently on the cold concrete. When she reached the device and picked it up, she almost shrieked out loud, spotting the small crack on the screen. She was so absorbed in staring at it, she didn't notice a jogger cutting through the parking lot, and as she turned to head back to her car, they collided, the man's hands grabbing her arms and managing to keep them both standing.

"Oh, I'm so- so sorry-" Megan stuttered, tears finally beginning to fall as she righted herself. For a moment the man's grip had felt like Tyler's, and she'd thought...

As she looked at the jogger, he grinned lightheartedly, shaking his gray-haired head. "That was all on me, ma'am, sorry!" When she smiled in acceptance, he quickly jogged off again, and Megan was left shaking her head, returning dazedly to her car. She was losing it, and fast.

Later that night, Megan was putting the finishing touches on an outfit for going to the bar downtown. A friend was celebrating a promotion, and she'd be damned if she stood up free drinks after the stressful few weeks she'd had. As she adjusted the carved Obsidian pendant resting just above her cleavage, she stared hard at the rock, a small smile curving the side of her mouth. Somehow the original stone had appeared in her pocket, probably from when she was frantically scrabbling to escape Tyler's wolf form.

In any case, she'd kept the rock after discovering it, and promptly had it made into a necklace when she made it back home. She told no one why, giving some vague excuse as to it being pretty, and black matching everything. She never took it off, but it was rarely visible like tonight. It matched her simple dark top perfectly, and as she revolved in the mirror to get a look at herself, she decided she looked good, having completed the outfit with dark jeans and heels. With a last check on her makeup in the mirror, she nodded in approval, grabbing a small clutch and heading out the door, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her chest, though she couldn't figure out why.

A friend picked her up, and they arrived just as the bar was reaching peaking point, people standing outside smoking, a line forming to get inside, and loud music blaring from inside. Megan fidgeted a bit, wringing her hands against the material of her clutch purse; she really didn't go out that much, and the prospect was a little daunting.

An hour later, Megan was nicely buzzed, leaning backwards against the bar, elbows propped on it, nursing a bottle of beer. She was trying her best to have a good time; however, half the people she'd met there had left with random people they'd met that evening, and a round of tequila shots had the rest out on the dance floor, hollering their lungs out to an Usher song. Megan herself was not much of a dancer unless the mood suited her, which, admittedly, was not very often; she was not very coordinated, as many aspects of her mountain adventure had shown. Saying so, however, had not swayed the minds of several tipsy men, who had demanded dances with slurred words, fumbling for her hand.

She'd done herself proud, sidestepping when need be, smiling nervously and managing to vanish into the crowd, finally surfacing where she now stood, keeping an eye out for creeps through slightly blurry vision. Blinking a few times, she raised the beer to her lips, draining the rest after a small sigh. This night was a bummer like all the rest, and then add in the weirdos who wouldn't leave her alone...

As she turned back to the bar to hand over the empty bottle, Megan felt an arm slide around her waist. Rolling her eyes and suppressing a groan, she slowly turned to find a burly man, red-faced and very obviously not sober, leering at her even as his hands wandered her person. Megan physically winced; this same dude had been at her to dance since she'd gotten here, and was not taking no for an answer. Gingerly, she tried to step back, until she hit a barstool directly behind her, and mister Tubby, realizing what she was doing, tightened his grip on her waist.

"Please let go," Megan tried, trying not to infuse the panic she felt into her voice.

He just chuckled, tugging her closer, though Megan tried to pull back. "C'mon sweetheart, you're beeaaautiful, and ah just wanna dance, one little dance, and maybe a kiss..." His face lurched towards hers, and Megan just averted it, his slobbery lips landing on her cheek instead. Eew.

She was able to surreptitiously scrub her cheek with a napkin before meeting his gaze again. "Let me go, you creep!" He started to become angry, his grip tightening to the point of pain. Why was no one noticing him all over her? Glancing around, she could see the bartender occupied by a large group who all wanted shots and mixed drinks, and everyone else within range was too drunk to help. She closed her eyes, thinking as rapidly as she could through the mental haze the alcohol had caused.

Suddenly, another arm wrapped around her from behind; the grip was firm and reassuring, the arm's bountiful muscles taut with tension. Megan's panic subsided abruptly as she felt the flabby arms of the lecherous big guy pried from around her waist.

"Sorry I kept you waiting, babe," a familiar voice drawled, and Megan's heart leapt into her throat. "I hope this gentleman wasn't bothering you." The second phrase held a barely-hidden warning, and the heavy man uttered a slurred apology, backing away like wild horses were dragging him.

His uncomfortable grip was replaced by the warm, comforting feel of a pair of arms she recognized instantly. She smiled down at their sun-browned appearance, leaning back into the chest of the man behind her. "You're here."

"That's right," Tyler crooned, aware of her intoxicated state. "You don't seem surprised." He pressed a kiss to her ear and then her hair as he spoke.

"Gratitude for the creeper-rescue is outweighing all other emotions right now," Megan assured him, trying to steady her heartrate even as Tyler sent it spiralling out of control again, placing a small kiss on her neck. And in actuality, now that the danger had passed, she was furiously composing a list in her head of all substances the bartender could've put in one of her drinks to elicit the hallucinations. She stared at the man in question, but he was an older, jolly fellow whom she could never see spiking anything.

Damn. Maybe it was just that she was so buzzed. So another drink couldn't hurt, might even end the hallucinations, right?

Nodding to herself, Megan leaned over the bar, beckoning to the bartender and ordering a double shot of whiskey. She pulled out of Tyler's arms and plopped down on a barstool, indicating woozily that he should take the one alongside her. He did, throwing her a worried glance. "Are you alright, Megan? Is it okay that I've come?"

Megan's double shot arrived, and her fingers closed around the small glass, grounding her addled thoughts as best she could with the cold contact. "I'm totally fine now, thanks, and I'd be freaking mindblowingly ecstatic that you're here, except for the fact you're a hallucination." It was all said with the slightest of slurs, ending with a gusty sigh, and a furtive glance around to see if anyone else had noticed the hot werewolf who'd apparently travelled cross-country to find her.

Tyler's frown deepened at her words, then his expression rapidly morphed into one of pure amusement. Megan was so hilarious, even if her humor at the moment was at the cost of her sanity, in her eyes.

He watched her toss back the double of whiskey, grimacing and daintily wiping at her mouth with a napkin as she set the glass back on the bar. Ever the lady. His knowing grin widened, knowing things would get more interesting when the whiskey hit.

A few moments of silence later, Megan pulled out her cellphone, stared at the screen, and started to whimper. At the noise, Tyler snapped back to attention, thinking idly how interesting it was to see her in a setting of civilization, among other people...She was so adorable, even at this moment, wailing as she was at her phone for unknown reasons.

"What happened? Some hot dude forget to text you back?" Tyler leaned over to her, trying to instill as much humor as he could into the question, even as he eyed the cracked screen. Megan's beautiful brown eyes, even watery as they were, and surrounded by rapidly-smearing makeup, met his, taking his breath away momentarily. "I...dropped it, 'cause I'm a big fat fail. Nothing's gone right for me, Wolfy boy, since I freaking emerged from the freaking woooodsss!" She buried her head in her hands, as Tyler blinked at the strange euphemism. It was a euphemism, right...

The bartender cast them a look, brows raised, and Tyler nodded to him, before putting an arm around her and pressing his head to hers. "Let's get you home, okay, Megan? You're not a fail, the furthest from it I've ever seen."

A few sniffles later, his arm was firmly around her, leading her out of the bar after he'd settled her tab himself. She was hiccuping every so often, with her head buried into his shoulder. He finally knew she lived, which was just a long ways down the main thoroughfare they were already on. But to walk there, or get a taxi...

As if she read his thoughts, Megan blurted out, "I wanna walk," nuzzling her face into his shoulder.

"Alright, but at the first sign of motor skills problems, you're getting carried," Tyler joked, smirking as he pulled Megan away for a moment to put his jacket over her shoulders. She nodded obediently, smiling as he began to walk her down the crowded sidewalk.

Megan was now completely confused. He had to be imaginary, right, she was walking herself home, she'd paid her own tab, the warmth of his body next to hers was...imagined. To cement her theory, she hiccuped, reminding herself she was totally wasted. Yep. Delusional, drunken wolf-boy fangirl right here. That was all.

Still, she could enjoy it while it lasted, right? she thought, inhaling deeply the pleasant scent of the leather jacket around her shoulders. Sneaking a glance at "Tyler", she admired the white collared shirt he'd worn under the jacket, with the sleeves now rolled up...Yum. And the tight dark jeans...Ooh lala, was her drunk mind in heaven or what.

She wasn't too drunk to notice all the heated glances random women passing by sent him, though he kept his eyes straight ahead when he wasn't looking at Megan to check she was doing alright. This gave her a massive sense of satisfaction, that he was with her, though she didn't know why other women would be able to see him. They must all be on drugs, she decided.

At last, her house was in full view, and she waited for the illusion to end. They reached her porch, and the motion-detecting light came on, assaulting Megan's drunk vision with harsh brightness just as she felt Tyler's arm retract.

Blinking to clear her sight, she turned as quickly as she felt she could, feeling the liquor punish her anyways, with a wave of nausea. Tyler was gone. Of course she'd been right, she may be a cynic but she was always right. One could only rely on themself, and all that jazz...

Grumbling loudly and incoherently about hipsters and "bella-like" reckless behavior, Megan ascended the steps to her house. After a duel with the lock, involving several random stabs at the doorknob with her key, she was finally inside, the darkness and quiet immediately soothing the drunken chaos that was her thought process at the moment.

Stumbling upstairs, she tossed her keys and phone, and the jacket she hadn't remembered bringing with her, in the direction of her desk, flopping onto her bed in exhaustion. She was asleep in less than a minute.

Megan was rudely awakened early the next morning by her phone ringing incessantly, the ringtone only interrupted by the dinging notification that she'd received a voicemail as well.

Head feeling like the drummer of a marching band was inside, mouth tasting like she'd used battery acid for mouthwash, she lunged for the phone she'd tossed on the desk. Wincing at both the cracked screen and the little blinking battery icon, showing it was nearly dead, she glared at the device before wrestling her way to the voicemail inbox, hoping there was enough juice for that. The first message was one of her friends whom she'd gone to the bar with last night, shrieking into the phone that they were sure she was kidnapped and dead, and it was all their fault, and they'd never drink again if she called them back. The next 11 messages were all of a similar nature, and she cringed, clearing all notifications and scouring her room for the charging cord.

When that was done, she nearly ran for the shower, she felt so disgusting. The hot water felt amazing, almost as nice as the shower at Tyler's cabin had felt so many months ago, when she'd been all grody from the wilderness...She shook her head, trying to banish those heartwrenching thoughts, then froze. Tyler had totally been in her presence last night. Right? Or had she imagined it?

She glanced down in the shower at the pendant, hanging around her neck like always, despite being constantly drenched by the shower. She'd replaced the chain twice already, they kept rusting through, and everyone just shook their heads at her. Whatever.

Toweling her hair dry, with another wrapped around her, Megan returned to her room, freezing completely as she spotted the strange jacket on her floor near the desk, where it had missed the chair she'd thrown it at last night.
"Who the...What..." She was incapable of coherent words as she moved to it, crouching and grabbing the material. It...smelt like Tyler, like fresh air, a subtle cologne, and a unique scent that was all him, that she'd recognize anywhere. She hadn't imagined it, but why had he disappeared last night without so much as a "see ya later"? Her brow furrowed, her eyes starting to burn slightly, alerting her she was near tears. She tossed the jacket towards her open closet, where it crumpled to the floor, looking abandoned.

Megan moved to her window, ripping the towel from her hair and running her hands through it, frustrated. What was she supposed to do with these feelings? Was she supposed to pursue a relationship with this man she'd met, who apparently wandered like a nomad, when she was in the middle of school and work and everything? And what did he really feel, months later?

"Feelings suck," Megan muttered to herself, turning to her dresser and flinging clothes around until she found a suitable lazy-day outfit. It was the one day of the week where she could afford to be hungover; no work, no school to worry about. As she left her room and headed downstairs, her eyes caught her wall calendar; she'd begun circling full moons, for some reason; the next one was not for two weeks, she idly noted.

A few hours later, she was having as relaxing a time as she could manage; everyone was out of the house for the weekend, she was curled up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate, enjoying a good book. She'd managed to figure out the fireplace, undoubtedly something her Washington adventures had helped with, and had some music playing low in the background. She was as content as she could get.

But after an hour of quiet, Megan was getting restless. She set her book down with a huff, staring into the fire, crossing her arms across her chest. Clad in a cami, she was a little chilled even with the fire going, so she rose after a moment, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her flannel lounge pants, and headed for the staircase. As she crossed the entryway, a knock sounded on the door, startling her.

Edging cautiously to the front door, Megan peered through the peephole and nearly died of shock. Taking a deep breath, she wrenched the door open before she doubted herself, grateful she'd at least put on some makeup, by force of habit.

Tyler stood on her porch, looking even more nervous than she felt. He looked so strange, out of the wilderness, in her suburban neighborhood, with a white picket fence behind him...Megan shook her head viciously, stumbling over her words. "T...Tyler...Come in!"

He grinned, bowing his head and rubbing the back of his neck before stepping inside, looking around the front hallway as she closed the front door hurriedly, pulling her hair from its topknot. Combing through the locks that tumbled over her shoulders, she glanced quickly in the front hall's mirror, before tapping Tyler on the shoulder and leading him into the living room.

She pointed him towards an armchair, then perched on the edge of the couch again, hurriedly stuffing her romance paperback under a cushion, crossing her legs, and clasping her hands over her knee. "What, um, brings you here?"

Tyler ran a hand through his hair, before clearing his throat awkwardly. "Guess you know I'm not, uh, imaginary, huh?" He grinned, leaning forward, propping his elbows on his knees and letting his hands hang. "I...I've really got a handle on, you know, the wolf thing. It's been so long now. And that whole changing-back thing that happened with you...Changed something. It's all easier, I'm calmer as the wolf, my human self is more conscious even when I've transformed. I don't know what you did, Megan. And I just...I needed to see you again."

Megan was slightly breathless, her hands gripping her knee tightly, to the point of pain. She couldn't find her voice, and so Tyler sought to fill the silence. "How's the leg? I hope it healed alright." The concern in his voice was touching, and she forced herself to make a sound. "It healed great, there was a scar, of course." Grateful she'd shaved her legs, she pulled the leg of her flannel pants up to her knee, showing him the long white mark on her calf, showing stark against her tanned skin. As she rolled the material back down, she didn't notice Tyler's gaze hungrily lingering on every inch of her skin he could see. Suddenly, she raised her head, blurting "Why did you disappear last night?"

Tyler fidgeted, looking at the carpet. "I didn't want to overwhelm you, it was late, you were drunk, I just...had followed you, and, um, wanted to make sure you got home safe. Sorry for the stalker behavior..."

Sitting straight again, Megan finally locked eyes with Tyler. "I honestly don't know what to say. I've missed you...more than words can say, and yeah, it's all completely ridiculous and illogical in my head and I've told myself for months that I shouldn't be feeling what I'm feeling because I would probably never see you again, and..." She drew in a shuddering breath, trying to halt her words. "I need my mop. I don't do emotions."

At that, Tyler just stared, his expression completely blank of anything resembling understanding. "A...mop? You need a mop?"

Megan rose, wringing her hands and flailing mentally. "Um, uh, Yes, I...I don't talk feelings very well. I...I do know there's a connection here. How do we make it work? I've got school and work and you've got the wolf-shaped skeleton in the closet and..."

Tyler's face broke into a wide grin, and he rose, moving to Megan and grabbing her hands, stilling them as he pressed them to his chest. "Don't worry about a thing, we can take it day by day. I've got no ties anywhere, I could stick around here for a bit...I'll just hire a maid service for the cabin..." Megan giggled, pressing her forehead to his chest.

He released her hands, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on top of her head. "I'll do whatever I can to make this work, Megan...If for nothing but your wolf-taming skills." He released her quickly, dodging as she aimed a light kick at his shin, and raising his hands in a placating gesture.

Megan folded her arms, grinning herself before frowning. "You really think we could make it work? You could like...rent a place or something around? 'Cause I like, live with my parents right now..."

All at once Tyler's lips were on hers, thoroughly shushing her. "Don't worry, I mean it," he assured her between kisses. "Everything will fall into place." Within seconds, they were on the couch, Megan pressed into the cushions, their lips never leaving each other's as Tyler pulled off his shirt, his hands moving deftly to the straps of her cami. He froze, staring at the pendant between her breasts. "That sort of rock looks familiar." Megan reddened, clearing her throat. "It sort of...ended up in my possession back in Washington, and my jewelry supply needed refreshing..." Tyler's eyes filled with warmth, and he smothered her with a new bout of kisses, his weight pushing her further into the couch and taking her breath away.

After a few moments, Megan pulled away for air, looking at him with a glint of humor in her gaze. "There wouldn't be puppies somewhere along the line, would there?" Tyler just laughed, imitating a wolf howl before catching her giggle with his own lips.

There you go guys, the conclusion to Dances With Wolves! Hope you've enjoyed the ride, this has been a nice fic to write, no crazy plot details to stick to, etc., not like some of my other fics. I love you all, I'm off to stare at my Epilogue for Cruel Summer and maybe get it posted soon too! LOVE YOU LOTS MEGAN XOXO ~BON