Broken Boulder but if i'm never your hero, i can never let you down

He doesn't know why he's here.

That's a lie.
He's here because the ghosts of his siblings haunt this place, because the only thing he'd ever had the courage to build for himself had been born here, and it'd died here too, because he's spent so long running from the past only to find he can't really let go of it. And it fucking sucks. The stench of death and sickness and piss still lingers in the air, stale and cold by now. It seems the last of the cats have died or moved off, and — it's just so... dead.
Eris must be lonely. The thought strikes at him suddenly and horribly, and his paws are carrying him to the garden they'd both loved so much before he knows what he's doing. Truth be told, he hadn't planned on visiting his sister's grave; it's too cold and final to stare at her resting place, it makes it feel too real. Like she'll never come back. And she won't — but sometimes it's easier to pretend she might, one day. But then he catches sight of it — of Paradise Garden, and the dirt mound where he'd...
She's not coming back.