Wraen tried to make sense of the logic and rules of this new form of existance, but once she had made some conclusions, something would happen to prove her wrong. The only solid thing was that she could find and connect more easily with people, who had known her in life. Who would think of her time from time and thus draw her closer. As for the rest - to most eyes she was invisible and she did not have great desire yet to try and communicate with them. Making friends and acquaintances was important, while you were alive. When you died, there was more value in visiting old friends. Because soon none of them would be left here and she was unsure of what would happen next. 

This is, how she heard Bronco's call and was able to locate him. She had expected to see him still living and thriving, but one look told her all she needed to know. He too had passed over, which did not feel right at all. Having seen him as a baby and growing up into the handsome and courageous man, a concept of him aging and dying did not fit in the portrait. Had she not met Towhee first, she would have not known the approximate passage of time after her passing. Now she did and it filled her heart with sorrow, realizing that Bronco too had been taken far too soon, when there should have been a long life ahead. 

"Hey," she greeted him, approaching slowly to, where he sat at the riverbank. "You called. I am here."

Wraen tilted her head to the side, listening patiently to Bronco, who was trying to make sense of the situation he was currently in. Unfortunately, she did not have any answers. This was her friend's party and she knew as much as he did. One thing she had learned over the course of these three very odd days was that it was pointless to seek any logic in what was happening. Briefly - the only rock-solid thing about the afterlife was that it was a total chaos and anarchy. Once you accepted that, you took things as they came in stride. And enjoyed the process of simply having a fearless existence. 

"I am glad to see you too, kid," she smiled at him, imagining, how very awkward this would have sounded, if she had called him that, while facing that all grown-up tall and scarred macho-man. Maybe not that weird at all. Kids were always kids to their parents and the same applied to their aunts. "This is your party - you decide, what happens or not," she replied, looking around and recognizing the area in Sun mote copse, where they all had lived a long time ago. "Except any ties to the reality as you knew it no longer exist. So, while you can shift and change the scene around you, I am afraid that this won't affect the world beyond the veil," she gave her five cents.

Too bad that even as a spectre, not bound to the limitations of a mortal body, could not hear the train of thoughts that went through Bronco's head. She would have listened very patiently and attentively as she always had. And then she would tell him that it was not really possible to alter the course of the history, because if not for one catalyst that would send the dominoes falling, then there would be a different one. And a third one. You cannot escape your fate, they say. Given a chance to live again, you can simply change the smaller details, not the bigger picture that you have been placed in. 

Therefore he would not be able to save Wraen, because it would always be the heart-disease that would finish her life at the age of five. He may be able to save some friends in this lifetime, but the landslides would still happen, the same catastrophe would destroy Moonspear. And they would still perish in a different way. Do not attempt to outrun Death - it will always find you - but enjoy the time you have been given as much as possible and, when the end finally comes, greet the old lass or man as an old friend, treat him with tea and a cake and take off together. 

"Well, you look like a baby now. But, when I last saw you, you were grown up. Maybe 3 or 4 years old?" Wraen racked her memory, but did not put too much effort in it. Because... time loses meaning, when you are dead. "Your father Colt died, when you were still a child," she explained. "In my brief career as a dead person I have found out that family members sort of gravitate towards each other. So... perhaps, try to think of him and he might hear you and come to meet you," she suggested. "It does not mean an immediate success, but trying never hurt anyone." 

"I am afraid so, yes," Wraen nodded, feeling sorry that she was the one to bring the bad news. She tried to remember, whether she had felt shocked to find herself dead, had she needed someone to tell her this and comfort her in the beginning? There certainly had been some sadness, not of her passing itself, but the fact that there would be people, who would mourn. Wraen knew, what loss had felt like, and as she had aged the number of people, who she had known and who had died, had grown.

You could tell yourself that they would never leave your heart, that in a way they stayed alive, but it was not entirely true. Life went on, new events took place and memories faded. Therefore she could not tell Bronco that it was not too bad or that there were exciting things waiting you in the afterlife. Or really anything that would make him feel better and lessen the depth of his sorrow of a lost life. For her dying had been a relief - a freedom loving spirit trapped inside a failing body meant agony and suffering. In the end you reach a point, where you no longer can pull through and your own comfort is more important than that of people, who love you. 

She was tempted to ask him about the circumstances of his death, but in the current setting it would be tactless. "But you are not alone. Everyone goes through this and... existence after death is not really lonely. It is different," she told him, trying to distract him just a little, but ready to be there and listen, if he wanted to linger on the topic. "When I was alive, they said that the death was the greatest mystery of all centuries. Now I can tell you that this is the most spot on description. Because death is a mystery and after dying you begin living in it. Nothing is set in stone, nothing is certain, you do not know the aim or the purpose, it is a slow-moving chaos... and it is different for everyone," she finished.

"It depends..." Wraen shrugged, thinking about the questions Bronco had asked and searching for the most truthful and objective answers. "I mean, I died content, having no unfinished business," she said slowly and the moment these words left her lips she realized that this was not true at all. The idea that came to her mind, made her furrow her brow and her expression was sorrowful for a bit. But then it was gone again to be sorted out later. "Well, no. Can you ever have finished business with life?" she laughed. "I would say, I was fine leaving. and therefore, where I have been, there is a state of being content permanently. Like nothing bothers you and most things that did, while you were alive... you feel indifferent to them," she explained. 

"For me - time stopped to exist. When that happens, you no longer feel the rush to achieve everything in the limited amount of time you have been given. So... you... I kind of slowed down and just exist. There or wherever "there" is," she told him. "What I can tell you for sure - there are billions of souls out there and for each the afterlife if you can call it so is different. I chose to create a little pocket of paradise in the fabric of universe, because I loved my life here and I did not want to let go of it easily. So - I am sure that some are just like me and then there might be other options. The universe is a big place to be in and very easy to get lost in, Bronco," she concluded smiling.

"Easier - I don't know. Has anything been ever easy or is it just an illusion?" she asked him rhetorically. 

"What did you do?" Wraen grinned back, amused by, how embarrassed Bronco felt and feeling sorry that he had dragged this guilt with him over into the afterlife. Sure - she had been no different - she also had regrets about things she had done or could have done better or could have not said at all. Yet death had evened it all out for her and it had not bothered her much over there. Now, however, she felt that the longer time she spent in this world, the more characteristics of being a live person here, she picked up. And she was pretty sure that maybe few days from now she would begin to rethink her life and move on. 

"About that old argument? Well, no one died," she said and chuckled, because this was not true. She had died. "Not because of that. No offence, my friend, in my last moments here I did not think about that bastard Bronco and, how he should have respect to old people and not talk back and not point out to their flaws, when that privilege is reserved to the oldies only," she laughed. "It happened and maybe the only thing to feel sorry for is that, had either of us been less prideful, we might have had few more good hours or days together then," she told him and leaned down to nuzzle his forehead affectionately. If he let him, because - despite the small packing - Bronco was an adult and she remembered well him being big.