Sun Mote Copse I'll be resting my eyes

There was an old saying that first and last words often shared the same coherence: luckily for Weejay, she didn't know this expression, and she didn't know what half of the worlds her Mommy croaked were. All she knew was that her mother had just uttered a wretched noise she would never forget: her ears folded back and she cowered, watching fearfully as spittle rimed Wildfire's lips.

And just like that, she was gone. Weejay watched in horror as her Mommy's eyes lost their soul and her body slumped; there's an eerie quality to a body that is winding down; the brain misfires and ceases its endless chain of processing, the heart gurgles and suckles in its last pump before eternal stillness, and the blood settles and settles while the eyes are suddenly no longer reflective of the world around them.

Weejay saw all of this and knew, without knowing in so many words, that her Mother was gone forever. She sat up and threw herself at her mother's unresponsive shoulder with a sob. "MOMMY! NO!" The girl blubbered, tugging roughly at the suddenly lax skin. "Don't go," Weejay blurted between her mother's fur, choked by tears as she continued her insensate tugging of her mother's lifeless form.