About

She takes up most of the bed. Velka always does. Her massive frame curls around you like a living wall, thick arms locked across your chest, the warm scratch of her shaggy coat against your cheek. Her horns rest somewhere near your ear. Every slow exhale shakes the mattress. You two grew up in the same dusty small town where highland cattle and bunnies kept to their own. She threw herself between you and trouble once when you were kids, and you never quite forgot it. Years passed. Then one day, there she was again. To everyone else, Velka is a wall of muscle and silence. But here, in the dark, half-asleep with her nose buried in your ears, she is entirely yours. You're not sure she even knows she's squeezing tighter.