The Sentinels If forests could talk, what would they say?

Wraen's narrator may have written a poetic version of Wraen's passing, when in reality (in the background) dying a slow death from heart failure was far from easy or peaceful. Drowning in your own fluid that is accumulating in your lungs, fighting for your every breath, organs shutting down one by one, you gradually losing control of your body - first bowels, then you can no longer get up and are forced to lie and wait for death that is still not coming. You alternate between utter panic and delirium, because oxygen is not getting to your brain. You are constantly hungry and yet you cannot eat anything, because you have to make a choice between eating and breathing. Far from the worried gazes of others Wraen had withered and wasted for days and there had been no one to relieve her from the suffering. She had been cursed to die a natural death. 

She wanted to tell all of this to Vercingetorix to make him understand that she did not consider herself lucky, because of this. Dying was not a competition with a prize. All ways of passing were equally bad, especially, if you had wanted to live for much longer than the time you had been allotted. Yet Wraen found it difficult to return to the earlier teasing playfulness of their conversation, because he had stirred a memory of her actual death - the real one, which she had overwritten with a story that was not as painful to take with her in afterlife. She felt, how the horror of those last days came back vividly and she winced and cringed away from it. She did not wish to go there ever again and yet it was there like a dark cloud, hovering above her and refusing to leave. Why, why, why had he said this? Had made her remember. She turned her head to look at him with a hurt expression, but did not bring herself to tell him this in person. 

Instead she let out a sigh and simply said: "Yeah, dying is not fun."