Qeya River cause I wish you were here

star eater listened, her face calm though her heart felt the ache of parting. she had found brief comfort in yura’s presence—like hearing a song half-remembered from childhood.
but the forest called her home, and star eater knew the pull of home was not one easily denied.
she rose to her paws, brushing briefly against yura’s side in quiet farewell. perhaps you were, she murmured. perhaps we will meet again, under kinder skies.
a pause, then softer: may the spirits guide you back.
she watched yura go, until the snow and trees swallowed her figure, before turning back toward her own den—toward sun eater, toward her children, toward the life she had chosen to build anew.

fade?