Emberflame Ridge there's no turning back now

Losing a parent was a difficult thing.  Losing both was worse.  Grief was something that Sam had never really had to tackle; to have come home with the expectation of the warm embrace of his family and to have been met with what he had found instead was almost too much for him to bear.  He could barely think of it, for the image alone was enough to cause his stomach to turn.

He could find no comfort.  Every time he looked over his shoulder for Eleuthera, he was met with the bitter reminder that she was gone, too.  Perhaps not in the same way that his mothers were, but her absence stung in the same way.  She was out there somewhere, alone but unburdened with the knowledge that — well...  He hoped that when it was her turn to find out, that he would be the one to tell her — or at least, that she wouldn't find out the same way that he had.

Ice slicked over the mountaintop.  It was dangerous to travel, but moreso when one's mind was not on the journey.  Climbing gave him a focus that ambling through the willows did not.  It was a welcome break from the truth that lie before him: winter, alone.

Eventually, he made it to the flat-top ridge and found a spot to rest. He cleared the snow from beneath him to lay down, his back against a rock.  The sky above was clear; absently, he wondered if his mothers were watching him from above.

@Ibis