Frogspawn Swamp Olde Stories Of Olde Times

A friend. She hadn't remembered the last time someone gave her that title. It brought some light into the dimness of her mind, to know there was someone kind enough to still call her a friend, despite never growing close. The wolves of Silvertip and Easthollow were beyond kind, and not one did she deserve. They were all better than she could ever imagine herself to be.

His next comment made her already weak heart stop. For someone else to experience what she was, instant pity struck her. How did he survive, why did he keep living? No, this had to be different. Why would he live if he lost what she had? Why would he live if he loathed himself like she did herself? "I'm so sorry," She was constantly apologizing to the world, no matter what it be.  "Why... Why didn't you?" He had to have had something to pull him out of this seemingly neverending void.