Yorkie sees her sitting on the mounting block, mired in her anticipatory grief
she's wondering how could her brother, her rock, be dying
Yorkie ambles, stopping at the gateway of the makeshift arena sitting high in the hills, the sea in the distance
she's wondering how she will go on living if her brother, her rock, dies
Yorkie pauses, enclosures go against his nature– those that went before him were not restrained but roamed freely in herds, avoiding any situation that might make them vulnerable to predators
she's in her own world, seeking respite, eyes gazing downward unable to give anything any mind except the fact her brother is dying
Yorkie enters the gate, the enclosure and slowly, quietly, sidles up to her and touches his velvet lips to the top of her head and leaves them there
she feels the touch and wants to startle yet chooses calm and she wonders if he can possibly know that her heart is splintered as she tries to breathe into the fact that her brother, her surrogate benevolent father, is dying
Yorkie steps forward until his chest rests against her, his neck forming a protective arch over her, his head hanging on the other side of hers, fully enveloping her body
she feels the whisper of his damp breath, exchanging a language unspoken, as she frets about arriving in time to be with her brother as his life energy exits his body
Yorkie stays in that sheltering position for the longest hour as if attempting to keep all that aches away from her
she's never felt this held in her entire life, except, maybe, when she was three and he was ten– her brother
