Broken Antler Fen Llewellyn

"Is any death pretty?" Lele asked rhetorically, knowing that neither could answer this. A person can die only once. Or be dying for a very long time, before actually passing over. She had seen people like that, she pitied them and never wished to be in their place. Maybe then... a hope for a quiet death without suffering was better. 

"We used to curl up to each other - me and my sister," she remembered those cold winter nights, when after a long day of walking, they had settled for a rest and dug out a hollow to share. There they had lied and watched, how snow falling from the clouds had covered both in a soft blanket, protecting them from the winds, hiding them from the night-crawlers. 

"Winter was easier to bear, when you knew, you weren't alone," she finished her thought. Life had had purpose then. If nothing else, Harps needed her. Father too. Now... she knew she would survive, but the will to do so was not strong. What for?