Dragoncrest Cliffs moonstone.

@Portia, sorry for the wait here!

Her voice was featherlight and delicate - a balm to his wounded soul - and Dacio gave himself permission to relax into her embrace. He cast aside the knowledge that this couldn't be real, that sooner or later he would rouse from slumber to face the world without her once again. Instead of dwelling on the impossible thought of having to bid her a solemn farewell, the young Gona did his best to fix his attention to the here and now.

Portia shared with him something he didn't want to believe: that she'd been ill, and in death she no longer suffered. He'd blamed Sequoia almost instantly for his greatest loss and, though he did not voice his opinion on the matter, he knew he'd carry the resentment for the rest of his days. Dacio listened quietly to what his speckled parent had to say, body trembling beneath her touch as he clung desperately to her in fear of her slipping out of his grasp.

Even when she slackened her hold on him, Dacio was unprepared. He wasn't ready to let go, and with a strained whimper he scooted toward her as she stepped back, but she was swift on her paws. Her vivid eyes rose to seek his own, and he blinked away the threatening haze of tears to better look upon her. She assured him softly that he'd fair fine without her, that he didn't need her, but it didn't stop his heart from yearning. "Anything," he whispered hoarsely in response to her request as he reached to touch the tip of his nose to her own - eager to maintain contact with her. "Anything - for you."