Bonesplinter Ravine Concrete Halls

There was no need for clarification. Heat pressed against the dog's skull, thick and suffocating, a heavy fog creeping through his mind. His thoughts had become a muddled mess, swirling sluggishly beneath the weight of the plant’s influence. Yet the numbness it promised was a cruel illusion—it dulled his senses but couldn’t touch the sharp, jagged grief twisting inside him. That ache was beyond any remedy.

He tried to steady himself, inhaling a shaky breath. His eyes flicked up, searching the Snowmother's face. Her cold gaze probed his own, demanding answers he didn’t know how to give. Her distress was clear, but there was nothing he could say to ease it. He wanted to—desperately. This, of course, however, was impossible.

Machi's paw stretched out, the grin fading into nothingness. What replaced it was raw, unguarded despair—deep, gnawing, and utterly vulnerable.

We... The thoughts in his head were thick, slow, like trying to claw through wet earth. He swallowed, and tried again, We made plans... plans to run away. To find my mother, and return to your clan. Maybe... start a family. He winced, a paw curling into his chest as if that would somehow stop the pain. But there was someone… we were interrupted… we had to run.

The floodgates opened. Images from that night flashed through his mind—too fast, too vivid, each one cutting deeper than the last. His heart raced, a rising panic filling his chest. He had tried so hard to bury this, to push it away, but now, the plants forced him to confront it all, to once again relive the pain he had tried so desperately to forget.

His breath hitched, and he clenched his jaw, trying to keep his voice steady. It was no use. The next morning, he continued, Herod sent me away. And when I came back, you were gone. And, he stopped, his words faltering, the name lodged in his throat like a shard of glass. His vision blurred, and the room around him seemed to close in. He blinked furiously, willing the tears to stay back. His paws shook, and before he knew it, the first tear spilled over, sliding down his cheek.

Juno… Machi's voice cracked, and the dam broke. He was gone too.

The dog's chest tightened, and the breath he had been holding came out in a ragged sob. His paws flew to his face, trying to hide the tears that spilled over in great waves.

He was gone too… he whispered again, his voice barely audible, the words catching in his throat, breaking on his lips. It sounded so small, so hollow—his voice, his heart, his entire being, all unraveling.