Rising Sun Valley säsìlpey

uktark does not answer at once.
his gaze stays forward, jaw set, eyes gone distant—heavy with the names he no longer speaks, the paths he did not walk back down. for a breath, the grief shows. raw. unguarded. then he swallows it, like he has learned to do.
sangilak, he says at last, voice low. strongest warrior. one who stands when others fall.
his eyes flick to the boy— one who had followed him without question.
strength is not leaving, he adds. it is staying.
a pause. then a single, certain nod.
we will always look for your brother.