Sun Mote Copse On the 858th day...

I wish I could say that, Towhee replied heavily, but when I say ‘shit,’ I don’t mean the petty kind. I mean, like, losing kids. And no, no matter how old you get or how many times it happens, you don’t get used to it. It doesn’t get any easier.

Wraen made another sales pitch. There was no danger of that, she was pretty sure. Sure, she didn’t have a home but that didn’t make her homeless. She thought of all her children and grandchildren scattered across the map and how she was warmly welcomed at every homestead.

Not that any of that sounds so bad to me, but, Towhee replied with a dry laugh, don’t worry, friendmine. Like I said before, it’s fulfilling. Truly. I’ve worn many titles over the years but nothing tops grandma, with mom a close second. I told you, I have a crapton of grandkids. And my family tree will only keep growing as time wears on.

She paused thoughtfully, looking skyward at the full moon. Towhee was no astronomer—she left that stuff to @Phox—but she was 96% sure it had been a few phases shy of full when she’d gone to sleep. So this was a dream then… or, well, some alternate reality, in any case. It wasn’t the real world, a realization that had her exhaling a little sadly.

You know, even if this is all just some dream and there’s absolutely nothing waiting for me after death, I’m going to live forever, Towhee said, turning her eyes back to Wraen, through my children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, great great grandchildren… well, you get the idea. I am already eternal.