Greatwater Lake each morning I get up, I die a little

Murdock's ears flipped back as Shale went on. Young love sprang up so quickly, and yet, seemed doomed to be cut off before its fruits got the chance to ripen. Why? Murdock wondered, not for the first time, but for the first time in a while. Why do these things happen? What have we done to deserve this? But there were no good answers to those questions, and so the male returned to his solemn vow not to think on it, if he had any other choice.

But his heart was still sore, and when he spoke, it was words he didn't know he still carried with him. "Chemukh died first," said the earthen male. "The kids were still young, just a month old. I tried to give them meat, but they couldn't take it. When they started to cry, I laid 'em low. Couldn't stand to see 'em hungry, see 'em start to wither away like that. Kinder to end it."

His voice was gruff, his words matter-of-fact. But this was a topic that still deeply disturbed the aging male, and one that he had trouble contemplating on the best of days.