Blackfoot Forest The Death of a Warrior is a Noble One

Gotham's grey gaze shifted toward Samuel as he whined and sighed he wasn't going to die alone. It was pretty obvious to him that the gods were going to claim him, but at least his pack would have survived because of him. Or at least, that was what he kept telling himself. He had given everything and in return asked nothing. He could now die as a foolish yet noble man with a heart of gold buried beneath the harsh attitude and lack of interest.

H-hi, brother... He whispered with a half smile, tears starting to form in his eyes as well as soon as he noticed Sam was getting emotional. He wanted to say so many other things, that he was going to be fine, that he had done it all for them. That, despite not being related by blood, they all shared a bond that would never be broken. And that bond would be there, wherever Gotham was going to. He would look upon Rosings with pride from up there, happy to have been part of it, happy to have helped the only way he could. He offered himself for them.

Next came his mate he had ignored, and she said nothing. No comforting words, no sorry, no touch. Just her presence as he was fading away. He wanted to say sorry, sorry he couldn't be stronger for her, for them, but the words got stuck in his throat. He lay down his head as his muscles couldn't hold him anymore, ready to fade away as friends looked upon him as he went. He would see them somewhere up there, but hopefully not soon. He smiled fully now, tears streaming down his face, becoming salty dark spots on the sand.

But he did not drift away before feeling the body of Amara against his. Her words, as whispered they were, he could hear them clearly. He had never got the chance to bond with her. He had never had the chance to get out of his shell. But, as he looked back, his life flashing by bit by bit, he was mighty proud of himself and them. Yes, he could rest peacefully now, now that he had found his calling. He had always been a stepping stone for others, an offer to safe the greater good. P-please, do something useful with my body once I'm gone... He spoke, eyes closing slowly. He could still hear, but his sight and smell had already given up on him. Everything was cold, he noticed, but it was a nice coldness. The hotness of Amara's body disappeared, and the only thing he thought about was them, surviving because of him.

He didn't want to be buried, he wanted them to use his body as fuel to get further. His body was just a vessel after all, he had no use for it any longer. He was going to be in a better place to become a stepping stone for the gods.