Hushed Willows This is something monstrous and magical. Beyond science; beyond reason.

They made the grave, they brought her to it, Stark laid her down as delicately as he could and tried to make her seem at peace. It was what he kept saying - what he kept promising himself in his head. She's at peace. How did peace work when the darkness was all there was? What could he give her now, that she was decaying muscle and cold flesh? Stark washed his tongue across her forehead, nuzzling against her for a moment as a soft sound - a whine left him. 

It was hard to consider leaving her behind and even harder to consider covering her up. The earth would swallow her, it would consume her, it would become one with her. Stark took a moment to nuzzle against Tambourine and then Banner. This was something he couldn't expect such a young child to shoulder so easily, but then, Tambourine was a different sort of child entirely. 

Leaving Octavia beneath the tree for the river to rush by her and the songs of crows above. Their schemes would wait, the dreams would visit - it would all be there with her.