Blackfeather Woods passing by the hills, 'til i hear the name

The spirit on the other hand had realised right away that their caretaker was dead. It did something to her emotional world but not as much as it did the dark one. The pale youth herself cared less about the mortal world, for she believed herself to be a bridge between the real world and the spirit world, and this body, this husk of hers, merely an instrument to move herself forward and through this life. She had checked in occasionally over the last twenty four hours to see how her counterpart was doing but she did not care to sit together and sob.

The body was a thing that had admittedly intrigued her. There was only one thing that she could think of to do with it, but she was not sure, looking at the emotions that ravaged the dark one, if it would be a wise thing to suggest or to enact at the moment. So she bided her time and waited, but the dark one remained touched by emotion and seemed wishing to drag the body elsewhere.

Unlike the dark one, the spirit had learned some words. The dark master had taught has, as well as the large black one and the star-dusted wolf, the latter two who had left some time ago. Most everyone left, but the spirit was okay with that, for it was a part of life. Life brought you who you needed, and took away who you no longer needed. The caretaker was gone because her body had taught them all she could, so now she would stay only to teach them in spirit. But she wouldn't let Squeaky hear about that, of course, or there would be more reasons to cry for the both of them, no doubt.

The spirit watched as the dark one jumped at the bird. Then, as she stepped towards the body of their caretaker, the one who had borne them, she said: We eat for food, then put bones on altar for spirits. Then she braced herself for impact because she expected that Squeaky would react to this in much the same way she reacted to the bird.