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He returns to the Dark Forest only when it's finally purged, when the smoke settles and the unearthly remnants of the star are starting to fade.
The river is already flowing when he crosses the barrier. It carves its way through the clustering trees, thundering, glittering under the reflection of the moon. But as he follows it, it shallows, until he reaches its end. There, the moon shimmers calmly inside a shallow little pool, a curious end to a such a beginning.
A fox is already there, kneeling by the bank. Her copper paws rake the earth as she hums. Peonies sprout in the grooves, joining the hundreds that already surround the blood-red cloak drifting in the clear water.
He can see her ears perk up under the hood of her cloak, but she turns to him with no kind of surprise. Instead, a slow grin spreads across her face.
"Well, hello, Mr. Wolf."
"My dear." He stops short of the pool. "What reason does a maiden like yourself have to be in this forest all alone? Who knows what lies in wait in these woods?"
The fox continues to claw at the earth, eyes bright in the shadow of her hood. There is no single color to them. Instead, her irises shift between shades like a prism.
"Oh, don't worry. I know," she replies. "But I'm not alone now, am I?"
With that, she rises to her feet and pulls the hood back, revealing a halo of black coils. The cloak drapes over her plump, curvy frame. Copper fur is now skin the color of fresh earth. Paws have become hands clutching handfuls of flowers and feet that wade into the water.
She strides towards him boldly, looking up at him through dark eyelashes. Her teeth are no less white and no less sharp.
"And I can assure you," she murmurs as she places her hands on his chest, "I am no maiden."
Her hands are nothing but heat through his cloak. He breathes into her touch, her warmth, then pulls her into his arms as his fur shifts to deep olive skin, as he feels the familiar brush of silver waves against his forehead once again.
Her heartbeat is everything, as it always is, loud, steady and insistent through her chest. He has never had one. It's only moments like these that he can have even a guess at what it must feel like.
"And where is this kitten you were terrorizing?" she asks, pulling back. "I would've thought you'd have him here by the scruff of his neck."
He sucks his teeth. He can feel his cheeks flush.
"Let'imlive," he mumbles.
She raises one scarred eyebrow.
"Death?"
He clears his throat. "I let. Him. Live."
A beat. Her full, red lips turn down in a mock pout.
"Oh," she begins to coo.
"Ay, querida, no seas malo-"
"-I'm not!" She pulls back her cloak. A woven bag is slung over her shoulder, resting against her belly. She reaches inside and pulls out an apple, one so large she can barely hold it in her palm. "I'm just here wondering if maybe there's a hidden benefit to playing with your food after all."
"I thought you said you didn't keep score!"
"I don't!" She pulls one of his sickles from his belt, tosses the apple into the air, and cleaves it in one swoop. "But you know I love a good twist. Even if it comes at your expense."
She catches the halves in midair and presses one into his hand before taking a bite. A bead of juice runs across the small, darting scars on her cheek.
"You mean especially when it comes at my expense." He bites into the fruit himself. The juice is cool, the perfect balance of sweet and tart.
"I just still don't understand," she continues between bites. "Why this kitten? Why Puss in Boots?"
"His deaths were annoying me."
She snorts. "I didn't know you were editorializing deaths now! Do you do this for all cats? Because they're all running around with these eight extra lives."
"Which is quite an aggravating set-up, don't you think?"
She shrugs. "It's a decision I had no part in making. But I will say. To you they might have been annoying, but personally, a lot of them up to this point have been kind of hilarious."
He rolls his eyes.
"What? They have."
"The card game?"
"He added an extra ace! He genuinely thought he could pass off two clubs!"
"The oven?"
"There was no reason to add gasoline to the coals before turning it on."
"The cannon?"
"...okay, you know what, that one did irritate me."
"See?"
"But even still, it was funny!" She tosses the core into the dirt behind her. A tree springs up instantly, full of ripe fruit. "What can I say? I'll never not be amused by cats. They're all so little! Walking around thinking their brains are bigger than they actually are-"
"He was mocking you, Vidita."
The rage is still fresh, still frothing inside him. It nearly chokes his words.
"He kept dying," he says, voice tight. "Foolishly, over and over again. Never learning. Just expecting another life. Another life ready to waste."
The mischievous twinkle in her eyes fades. Her calloused hand cups his cheek. This smile is tired, tender.
"You don't need to defend me."
A quick turn of his head allows his lips to brush her palm. He doesn't break her gaze.
"I could never allow a mortal to disrespect you."
"My love-"
He shakes his head. "The abandon? The entitlement? The pride? I couldn't stand for it, Vidita. I will not stand for it. And you can't ask me to."
For a moment, she is quiet.
"You know, I've been called many things. Wonderful. Cursed. Precious. Wretched. Amazing." She grins wryly. "A bitch. But I learned a long time ago that I can't be in the business of wanting all that. Death, I am not going to be liked, or loved, or even respected by every mortal that walks. Some don't for good reason. And some are blinded by pride, and wealth, and power. But that's the risk I take. It's the good with the bad. It's all of it. My love, it is what it is."
There's a pointed stinging in his eyes. "It shouldn't be."
"But you're missing the point. I have the good! I have the delightful. I have the wonder. I have the joy." She presses a kiss to his knuckle, upon the ring that has rested there for millennia. "I have you. And that is more than I could ever ask for."
He rests his forehead against hers. "You're too good for me."
"I think you're the one who's too good for me. I'm not exactly out there defending your honor."
He can't hold back his smile as he kisses her properly. The electric shiver that runs down his spine feels the same as it had the first time, eons ago, when they'd grasped at each other with shaking hands and eyes pooling with tears, brimming screams suddenly stuck in their throats. But now, they melt, breathing into each other, hands tracing familiar patterns along arms and cheeks.
He finishes with one last peck on her cheek. "I love you."
Life beams up at him. "I love you. And I've been apart from you long enough." Her fingers lace between his, and tightly. "Let's go home."
It's no matter. He already is home. But he takes his wife's hand with no argument, and deeper into the forest they go.