You feel numb. Your head feels light, but you can at least tell that you are awake. You try to open your eyes, though you quickly close them as pure, white burning light greets you. You groan and feel as if your voice is distant and separated from you. You open your eyes again, once again blinded by the white light, and try to reach a hand up to rub at your eyes, but you can't feel it move. Hell, you can't feel... anything. No cramps from what feels like an overly long sleep, no warmth from the covers or wife sharing the bed with you, and you can't even so much as feel yourself breathing. You feel cold; like you're caught in the freezing wind of a winter's night with nary a piece of clothing on you. Groaning again, you hear it a little closer this time, though now you've noticed that you can't feel the rumble of your throat with your morning call. Something stands over the intense light, leaving a large, black blur across the endless stretch of white. You tiredly blink, slowly regaining your vision as the pure white fades to the yellow and orange glow of candle-lit fire, and the black blur gradually resembling your wife with each blink.
 
She looks... sad, but happy. Her mousy face looks to have dirt, grime and gods know what else smudged across her snout and face, though her hands that she brings up to her mouth look to be drenched in a sickly ooze. You try to ask why she looks to be so dirty, but all you can hear yourself say is another groan. She bends down, her face nearing yours to the point of her whiskers nearly tickling your cheek, and she softly coos, "Hey, you." Her hazel eyes look ready to break into tears as she smiles down at you lovingly. "You're finally awake." She bends down and kisses your cheek, her soft warmth embracing your skin, though you can't feel her thin fur or tender lips. You're starting to worry, and you try to sit up. You still can't feel your limbs. What has happened to you? You look to your wife to ask what's wrong with you, but you notice muddy brown grime on her lips.
 
You try to speak, but once again, all you hear yourself say is an undiscernible groan. Her smile breaks slightly as she looks into your eyes, possibly noticing its movement from her own eyes to her lips, as she brings a dirt-caked finger to her lips and looks down at the muck. She quickly wipes her mouth on the back of her arm, leaving a long, dark streak on her fur. What was that? What is on you? Why can't you speak or move? She sniffs and pats her eye on the cloth of her clean, upper arm to dry her tears. 
 
"You... You probably have many questions, my love." She takes a small breath and looks over your body, once again making you question just what's wrong with you. "I... You were... Gone, for a long time. I'm... I don't know how to tell you, but I cannot hide it all from you... You... You were killed."
 
Your face would contort to that of sheer confusion, or maybe it already has, but you can't tell if so much as a muscle has twitched in response. Her face twists to a furious scowl as she continues, "They... The villagers you traded with, they... They killed you in your sleep. They wanted... They wanted to kill you for seeing me. Being 'tainted' by me... They killed you, buried you in a shallow ditch, and left to find me." Tears begin to streak down her furred face, her gaze looking back to you. "I... Oh gods, I never wanted this to happen... I... I abandoned our home. All burnt to ashes..." She looks over your body again. "I... It took almost a year to come back and find you. To take you back and get everything ready... The ritual, the materials, it... Oh gods, I... I don't even know if you are the same as before. If you even remember me." More tears begin to gather in her eyes; it would break your heart if you could feel it thumping in your chest.
 
You decide to force yourself into action and very gradually and shakily lift your head. Ever so slowly, the vast stretch of your naked body was revealed to you, and it was abhorrent. Your skin was a deathly pale white stretched thinly over your body; your ribs disgustingly poke out of your right side with spots and chunks of dark, rotten flesh speckled across your body. You almost expected to see a thriving nest of maggots coursing through your open wounds and sores, though no such pests could be spotted, at least on the surface. You also notice that your left arm is entirely missing with just your right remaining, it similarly was torn and worn with a few of your fingers rotten down to the bone. You would panic and scream, but, somehow, you don't. Instead, you feel more worried about your love, seemingly ready to break down into crying at any moment. You stare down at your arm and try to move it, seeing the withered limb shake as it attempts to listen to your command. Your hand slowly lifts in the air, forcing your wife's attention to you. While it felt like you were moving a limb through tar, you direct your bony hand to her small, dirty hand, eventually placing it down onto hers. The message thankfully received, a loose smile breaks on her crying face as she puts her other hand on top of yours, covering it in soothing warmth.
 
"It is you," she happily squeaks past a few sobs.
 
After taking a few minutes to collect herself, she says, "I'll... I'll fix your body. It's the least I can do for my mistakes." She hops off what you realize to be a stool, the most you can see of her past your body and the stone table being her large ears poking out of her hood. She hurries along to the shelves along the other wall, revealing where your left arm is and a bony, lower jaw. Stripped of all flesh, you assume whatever was left inside your mouth now dangles free and restricts you of all speaking beyond indiscernible groans and burbles. As before, you feel as if you should be worried, but you take confidence in your wife scurrying around the room collecting an ever-growing pile of bottles and leather pouches in her arms. You were never certain if she knew magic to begin with when you were alive and well, though you suppose you being intact shows her expertise on the matter. She brings the materials back and lays them across something out of sight. You try to sound out "What is that", though you could barely even understand yourself.
 
"It took me a long time to collect everything... If I'm right, all of this will fix your body."
 
Over a few hours, she diligently worked on you. Some powders were smeared across your chest and legs, and she would often stop to read further into the black tome by her side. She struggles to lift the hefty book and throw open its heavy pages to get where she marked. You would chuckle if your torn throat would allow it. While you don't feel any different, though she reassures you every so often that she's making steady progress. Out of boredom, you look around the unfamiliar room. You can see a window a ways away, the orange glow mixing in with the light of the candles, most likely signaling the coming of night. Near motionless, you are only kept engaged by the few one-sided conversations from your working wife and the slow passage of time until the outside light had disappeared entirely. Her talk about where she went into hiding was interrupted by a long, loud yawn, but she tries to pay it no mind and continues talking.
 
You want to tell her to get her sleep, though you have no real voice on the matter. You don't feel tired yourself, though it might be because of the spell keeping you "alive". You begin to wonder if you'll be truly fixed as she so says, how you may be restored to resembling a good-looking corpse, but not made living flesh and blood. A rattling breath escapes your throat in a disgusting sigh, briefly distracting your wife to ask if anything was wrong. You slowly shake your head no and she resumes her work. You begin to enter a mild stupor until she announces, "OK... I think you're ready to walk." You break your attention away from the bland ceiling to look at her, her eyes seeming to scream for a reprieve with a well-earned rest. You see her hand pat your shoulder, still caked in a slurry of dried gunk and whatever random ingredients she used in the hours she spent tending your body. "Do you need help getting up?"
 
You answer by trying to sit up, unsteadily using your one arm to lift yourself off the stone surface. You almost expect to feel woozy as you finally get yourself up, though you believe that's just another benefit of not feeling any pain or discomfort with your ragged body. Needing no moment to catch your breath or reorient yourself, you slide yourself down to the tiled floor. However, your legs give out beneath you and send you hurtling to the ground, with you just barely catching yourself with your one arm. Your wife rushes to your side, quickly checking your body for any damage. With a quiet, "OK", she puts one of her small hands underneath your arm and helps lift you to a stand to the best of her ability. You wobble and shake until you eventually find your balance, though you hold onto the stone surface behind you out of fear of falling again.
 
"Can you try taking a few steps for me, sweetie?"
 
You try to do as she says, though you have to look down with each lumbering step. Not being able to feel anything is both a blessing and a boon. You almost feel as if you're floating in the air, albeit a freezing air with a chill that refuses to leave your body be. Looking down, you also take in thankful notice that your package is still in place, relieving that worry for the time being. Through slow and shaky steps, you manage to reach the end of the room and take a pause near the window. It was indeed morning, though you could also see your reflection in the glass. Despite your missing lower jaw, and surprisingly enough your nose which you have yet to notice was absent in your vision, you look... fine. Or, at least as fine as a shambling, naked and rotting undead can be.
 
You're still a little bewildered at how at ease you are with this. Maybe it's an effect of her magic, or, as your dead-still romantic heart would feel, is solely out of the love you feel for her and how much she cares for you.
 
"You're doing great, honey," she says from behind you. You feel a warmth on your back briefly, most likely from her hand. She smiles up at you, and you would return it if you could. Another long yawn escapes her lips, only further worrying you. Just how long has she been awake? You slowly raise your one arm and point to the corner of the room. She follows your arm and looks to the bed you're pointing toward. "No, no. Don't worry about me, just...." she responds as one more yawn interrupts her briefly. "I still need to work on healing you."
 
 
You stubbornly refuse, keeping your arm raised and pointed towards the bed. "Love, I'm fine, you don't-" You lower your hand and gently grip her grimed shoulder, no doubt further dirtying her clothes. You try to nod your head to the bed, though the disgusting snaps and pops make you think otherwise, instead opting to point with your eyes. Thankfully getting the picture, she sighs and says, "OK, OK... I'll go to sleep."
 
She gives you one last look before leaving the room. You look out the window at the sun slowly rising over the forest across the short clearing of grass and wonder what exact hour it is and how long you've since returned to "life". You don't know a thing about magic, but you hope nothing comes to expire. You hear water splashing from the other room, piquing your curiosity to investigate. After some careful shambling, you push the door open with your arm and look into the room. You see your wife naked inside a wooden tub, steam rising out of the water that she cups in her now clean hands and rubs onto her face and hair. You miss the feeling of your heart fluttering as you gawk at her from the doorway, her small but beautiful body bare for you to marvel like a fine sculpture.
 
More and more of her snow-gray fur was revealed as she washes off the muck and grime staining her body, making you desperately wish you could join her like before. Memories of you and her exploring each other's bodies play through your mind as you watch her, you and her swimming in the serene waters of the lake close to her old home. Her hands would caress your chest as her tiny snout press against your lips, meanwhile, her legs would wrap around your hips and her thin, naked tail would coil around your wrist as you held her up by her thighs. Each moonlit night of you both escaping away to your and her little getaway filled your mind with a longing and nostalgia for a return to such passion-fueled love sessions. However, with one look downward at your decomposed body, you doubt you'll be experiencing her gorgeous body embracing your own any time soon. You release a shuddering, garbled sigh, at the very least content to watch her like you would a beautiful bird in its natural habitat.
 
Eventually, she steps out of the tub and begins to dry herself with a cloth closeby. She looks over to you as she rubs the sheet over her body, not surprised to see you lurking a small distance away. She almost seems to read your mind as you approach, saying, "Don't worry, my love... I look forward to being with you as we once were. We may not have a lake or river, but... Surely this will be a fine replacement come the day?" She puts the cloth aside, her naked body made even more tantalizing to see up close with her bare, perky breasts and flower nestled between her thighs exposed for you. "It... has been a long, long year without feeling your touch. Your strong, firm hands holding mine... I... It is one of many things about you that motivates me to complete this as soon as I can, my sweet."
 
She brings her wet hand to her mouth, kisses her fingers, then gently presses her hand against your chest. She smiles, even as she pulls her hand away to show that you've inadvertently dirtied it again with blackened gore. After cleaning her hand, she says, "Goodnight," and leaves for bed. Watching from the other room, you can see the light bleeding through the door begin to dim as she blows each candle out. After it goes dark, you're left to wander and think to yourself. You have a burning desire to join her in bed and hold her close, but you know better than to introduce your rotten cadaver as her bedfellow. Besides that, you don't feel to be the slightest bit tired. However, not needing to sleep does bring up the thought, "What now?"
 
You look around the room, taking in the sights of your new home, though you don't feel the need to look around so much in your current condition. Your eyes fall upon a few books, though as you reach your hand out to read one, a thought comes to you. With an experimental touch on the cloth set aside, you drag your finger along the surface, leaving a faint trail along the surface. At first, you feel disappointed, but inspiration strikes you as an idea quickly comes to mind. On a table close to the books, you spot several small scrolls. You awkwardly fumble with one of the scrolls before you unravel it, delighted to see that it's bare. Like before, you begin to drag your finger along the surface and slowly write out a message for your wife. Progress was slow, especially when your remaining hand isn't the one you write with, but you eventually finish your message in broad, crudely written words.
 
"My love, though I feel nothing, I know my heart would beat true for you still. I wish how I could have been there for you, and how even in my sorry state, that I could show you how grateful I am now. I pray to Vilith and any other god that this will suffice.
 
I love you."
 
You want to write more, though using so broad of a tool as your finger came with a cost of space. Regardless, you're pleased with the result and begin the arduous process of rolling it back up. Once done, you grab the scroll and shamble into the dark bedroom. You were going to leave it by her bed, though you can't tear yourself away from the simple beauty of her sleeping. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, one arm clutched atop the cover with the other underneath, and the slight sway of her whiskers with each breath out. It was soothing to watch, but torturous at the same time, made worse by the chill haunting your body. It wasn’t so horrible as to be immediately mind-breaking, but just bad enough so that you could never get used to it. A desire becomes a burning need, your freezing body desperately calling for the warmth she has briefly shared with you, but you hold yourself back. So, like a beggar’s child staring through the window of a sweets shop, all you could do is watch.

 
 And watch you did, as time starts to fly by under your notice and the sun reaches its highest in the sky. It was after a few moments since you’ve last looked out the window that she began to stir, a yawn leaving her lips and her eyes slowly blinking open. She turns her head and her eyes meet yours. A brief moment of fear strikes you as you remember your current state, knowing this would be the last thing someone would want to see as they wake up. However, as you turn to try and leave, you see her warmly smile up at you. “Good morning… Or, afternoon, my love.” You can barely keep yourself from jumping at this woman and holding her close. You extend your arm with the scroll in hand. “What’s this?” she asks as she takes it from you.

 
 She unravels the scroll and reads through your brief message. Her smile grows and tears begin to well in her eyes as she finishes. She sets the scroll aside and stands up, still as naked as when she left the tub and quickly wraps you in a hug. You’re stunned, and your dead heart begins to swell as she says, “Thank you… I love you so much, my dear husband.” Your feelings coupled with the warmth her body exudes into your own is simply intoxicating. All fears of your gross, rotting body disappear as she holds you close, the biting cold slowly bleeding away to be replaced with her gentle warmth. You put your one arm around her shoulders to return the hug as best you can, wanting nothing more than to stay here with her. You weren’t sure how long you and her remained in that embrace, but even if it were hours or days, it still would have been too short of a time.
 
Eventually, the hug had to be broken. Your mouse wife seemed to be immediately motivated, even going as far as to neglect the new layer of grime you smudged onto her as she scurries around the room naked. Bottles upon bottles of different materials were gathered, all pooled together onto the stone slab. She begins to flip through her oversized tome, muttering something about “the main spell.” With a triumphant “Ah!”, she leaves to grab your bony jaw. She pulls the cork out of one of the bottles and begins to coat the jaw in a clear, viscous jelly, then starts to chant as she sprinkles all manner of specks of dust and other things onto it. After a lengthy amount of time, her chanting stops and she grabs the sticky jaw while beckoning you to bend down to her level. Once you do so, she positions and squishes the jaw into your mouth while using the other hand to liberally apply more of the goo on your torn throat and jaw.
 
 “There… I will need to check up on you and that for the next few days. Hopefully soon, I will be graced with hearing your voice,” she smiles.
 
As the days came and went, she continued to work at your jaw, making sure to hold a brief ritual and smear more mysterious substances on your mouth every few hours. She continued to reassure you, even listing many details about your mouth that she loves that you’ve never thought of. Things like the coarse hairs on your chin and upper lip, the smoothness after a shave, the softness of your lips and tongue when they’re intertwined with her own, and of course your smile. Each and every little thing she would list off and back up with recollections of the romantic moments you spent with her, and her hopes of making more of such moments in the future. You were given more parchment to write on, though you struggled to think of anything to say other than “I love you,” especially during her affectionate reminiscing with you. However, sometimes you would enjoy your nostalgia with her, and write questions on the parchment with your finger asking if she remembers the special events you both spent together. Things like your and her first kiss, the first night together in the lake, laughing and enjoying the presence of each other naked in the cold water under the bright full moon; or the first time you both intimately enjoyed the other in bed after that swim. And every time, she would smile and say that she does, continuing the conversation long into the night of you and her recollecting each and every loving moment together. And her expression as she retold her memories was utter bliss for you to see, each smile warmer than the last.

After several days, you noticed your reflection in the water is beginning to show the clear substance start to change color to that of what your skin used to look like, creating an odd disparity with the discolored flesh around it. Eventually, she says that it’s time and that she would like you to open your mouth and try to speak. You’ve since kept your jaw closed, unsure if making any sudden movements would send it falling to the floor, but you oblige her. You slowly open your mouth and she looks in, muttering that the flesh looks fine and that the tongue seems to have grown in successfully. You have no clue as to how such a feat is possible, though you chalk it up to the mysterious magic she wields. Finally, you try to speak with a simple, “Hello.” Your voice is raspy with a tone fitting that of an ill man, though it’s a far better improvement to what you could pronounce before. Her grin grows to that of manic glee as you speak, her joy infectious and causing you to smile back to her for the first time since your “awakening”. Before you could bend back up to a stand, she quickly closes the distance and kisses you on the lips.
 
 As her heat spreads through you, you see her spitting and sputtering before smiling back up at you. “Bleh… Tastes like glue… Should wear off soon, though.”
 
You tell her thank you and try to show your appreciation, but she cuts you short with a smile and loving coo, “You don’t have to owe me anything, my love.” She kisses your lips again, sputtering once again before giving a sickeningly cute laugh as she wipes her mouth.
 
Piece by piece she fixed and repaired on your rotten body, days turning to weeks and weeks to months. The Summer’s green of grass and trees began to wither and die as the air grew colder in the passing season, while in contrast, your body became livelier and the awful cold slowly dissipates each and every day. Every so often when she heals and fixes your body, she continues to list the many things about you that she loves. She even goes as down to the most minute details of the most unimportant parts of your body. Like how your arms may not be as strong as the warriors in the kingdom over you’ve long since failed to join, but how they’re perfect for her in each and every way. Or your abdomen, your daily routine giving you the fairest hints of muscle definition that she so loves to explore with her hands. She even finds ways to compliment your inner organs as she tends to them and makes sure they’re ready for your second revival. Though it was somewhat grim, you can’t help but be flustered at her complimenting your stamina as she mends your lungs, especially during those long, intimate full moon nights with her. Her fawning over you makes the anticipation of being whole and complete all the more exciting for you. 
 
As you become less of a horror to look at, she pushes for you to sleep with her more and more despite whatever protests you may have about whatever rotten bits may yet remain. You’ve since quickly come to silence those thoughts as she clings to you in bed and near immediately falls asleep in your presence. Nights of her sleeping peacefully with you when you were alive after a long days work plays through your mind, her being just as much of a relaxant as you are to her. You find yourself chuckling at the thought of the long nights you spent out of town unable to sleep, all because you didn't have your caring wife cuddling with you. Even without fatigue wearing your body, just laying with her in bed makes each night a pleasant one for you to wait through. However, without feeling the soothing motions of her gentle sleep or the soft fur of her body against your bare skin, it was still a far cry from the pleasures you would have being with her when you were alive and well.

Finally, as the first hints of snowfall begin to decorate the ground outside, she proudly announces your completion. Your skin is once again flush, albeit a lighter tone, and there’s nary a wound or hint of you once being that of the dead. “I’m going to finish the incantation. It will… Well… bring you fully back to life, my love. The senses may overwhelm you, but, it should… I hope it won’t be too painful, but-“
 
 “Civana,” you interrupt, breaking her rambling to look up at you with her hazel eyes. “I’ll be fine. I’m ready, my dearest.”
 
 She gives you a small smile. “OK… Go ahead and sit down,” she says, ushering you to the bed as she prepares her final spell. As she begins to chant, you finally begin to feel something in your completely numb body. At first, it was a tingle and a twitch, starting from your toes that began to spread through your body like fire, before quickly turning to a sensation close to feeling like an actual fire burning through your veins. You convulse and writhe on the bed, your head beginning to feel light as you realize that you need to breathe. A thundering chorus of thumps vibrates in your chest, your body feeling as if you’re trapped among a powerful earthquake. Just as it when it felt as if you were beginning to reach your peak, it all vanishes. You’re left a panting, sweating mess on her bed, oxygen burning down your throat and into your lungs as your heart finally beats once more. As you gasp for air, your wife rushes to you from her book, her hand touching your own as she asks in a panic, “Are you OK?!”
 
You can feel it: first the warmth of her touch, but more importantly the soft, thin texture of soft hair on her hands and the sharp pricks of her nails poking your skin. You gently hold her hand and reach out with your other to caress her face, feeling the texture of her fur with your other hand as well. As you see her eyes beginning to glisten with tears, she smiles and jumps to tackle you down into the bed in a tight hug. As she holds you close and rubs her face into your shoulder, she begins to repeat and ramble, “You’re back… Oh gods, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” You can feel the hastened beats of her heart vibrate into your body, each touch of her body against yours filling your mind with ecstasy from the long period of complete numbness. She pulls her head away to look at you with a tearful, happy smile, though she’s quick to bring her arm up to her eyes to wipe away the teardrops. You can feel her hands run along your arms, each strand of hair from her body sending electric jolts through you. They linger down to your abdomen, her fingertips trailing upward to your chest before she wraps her arms around your neck. You shiver with each touch and notice that she's looking at you rather than where her hands are. "You can feel... It all worked," she smiles, using her hand again to wipe at her eyes. She sniffs and laughs. “You smell like medicine, you know?” 
 
Before you could smell for yourself, she continues. “We can fix that together, won’t we? If not together in the tub....” she says, stopping as she shifts her hips and soft, padded rear on the seat of your pants against your quick to rise member, “... Then perhaps here on the bed? We do have a lot of catching up to do.” 
 
You smile and respond, “Whatever will make it up to my fair lady.” You press your lips to hers, her eagerness showing as her small tongue dances with yours. The feeling of her small lips against yours was a feeling you've long since awaited, the fur tickling your own lips as you brush them against her soft, moist and smooth mouth. To describe it as heavenly would be unimaginative; it was a delight beyond all delights to finally feel her wonderful body again.
 
She pulls back to breathe, then says, “Good... I had wanted to see what it was like ‘on the other side of the pond’... See what this new spell I had found could do to help our harrowing problem with the empty bedrooms in our little home.” Before you could ask what she meant, she kisses you again and brings you down to your back on the bed. You were happy to be alive, but most importantly, you were happy to be with her again.