Moonspear There will be no more stories after this one.

With his words, Opalia may as well have turned to stone. So heavy, and so painful, what was she supposed to do when it felt like every last thing threatened to slip through her grasp and sadness rose to claim her like a great tide. I am not ready to be without you, she whispered, the desperation threatening to leak into her every word, sneaking in on the miserable sadness she had time to work on all until now. Death may never fully separate them, true, but this loss was still great. Too great, perhaps.

Barely, she lifted her muzzle from his fur. She felt so defeated. But.. but I only wish I could help you now. with her teeth grit tight, wishing for any answers besides the ones her every sense told her--her heart did not want to listen. I do not want to see you suffering, she quivered, physically, not wanting to let him go despite everything showing her, telling her, that he must soon be on his way. His fight was over. It had, in this long drawn out way, claimed him far too soon. Brother, I love you. Know that forever and for good. I could never forget someone who has always fought beside me, and what means so much to me.. she barely could get the words out, let alone make them as steady and solid as they deserved to be but believed he would know the magnitudes she carried.

It just didn't feel like enough, and likely never would.

She would stay with him until life slipped from his grasp, and perhaps beyond. Just as she had been beside him when they had arrived here in this existence. Nothing was going to change that so soon, and with this loss, went a part of her, too.