Dawnlark Plains Tell me what you know about dark nights

His question irritates her a little even through her haze of grief and hormones; isn't it obvious why she can't? I'm sick all the time, in case you haven't noticed, She says, tone resentful and slightly biting. For a moment she falls silent again, mind occupied with the other half of the reason. She'll never see Lainie again, not truly. At least, she hopes she doesn't. She sighs, head dropping to rest on her paws. When she speaks again, her voice is softer. She's — she's dead anyway; I just wanted to visit her grave.