Dragoncrest Cliffs in the future

His first taste of death would shape Sobo going forward.

He hadn’t known Haunt well. Their few interactions could hardly be called that. He grappled with his shyness in her presence, but he had been opening up to the notion of speaking with her. She was interesting, a wolf with a missing leg and ear. What stories she might have told of her life’s pain! Then she was gone. Then she returned, but then she was gone again, and this time it was permanent.

Sobo stood at Mireille’s side, silent while she wept. By now, he knew that boys did not weep. No one had taught him that, but Loko’s teasing whenever he caught his brother sobbing had done the trick. Both boys were silent, but while Loko merely seemed bored to be here, Sobo was thoughtful. Up until now, he believed that it was possible to fix anything with the right herbs and the right incantations and help from the loa.

Now he learned that death was not fair and not as readily stopped as he once thought. He learned that it took regardless of those it would affect. His mothers and his da were shaken; he could tell, even if they tried to pretend they weren’t. Sobo found in this the motivation to work harder, to learn more, more even than his manman knew, so that one day, maybe he would be able to save another Haunt from this fate.