Wapun Meadow learning that i’m deserving of love and the peaceful heart

i love u so much. ty for letting me be a part of her life ♥️

indra beat out her last staccato breaths and was still.
carefully merrick pried his jaws from around her unfeeling throat and gazed down into the serenity of his mother’s face. she truly had gone, now, entered the forever sleep wherein he had thrust her.
there was no thought within the boy but relief, a weak eagerness to feel himself unpoisoned, remade: he nuzzled against the soft hairs of her chest, pressing there his forehead, waiting.
eons passed.
the warmth of indra’s final embrace ebbed into nothingness.
merrick roused himself from her stiffening limbs, blinked once, tasted the dried flakes of her blood upon his lips.
nothing had changed.
a sharp intake of breath; he began to shake, casting his mind about frantically in tests he failed. still the rotted streak through his soul; still the foul green desire creeping like fel ivy upon his heart.
merrick screamed.
his voice raised to the din of shuddering trees that were beginning to find their graves; the boy stared with horror at indra’s body and the keening went on and on and on, finally roughening as merrick’s voice simply 
snapped
he sobbed shattered cries, seeking her once more, curling next to his lifegiver’s frame which he had forever muted, and his tears were not only for the potential of a maternal love that would never be realized —
— the last part of merrick that was truly alive had died in the snow with his mother, and he felt the loss of it as if he had cut off one of his limbs.
crooning, aching, the boy forced his way beneath her ravaged forelimb and let himself drift into the place between wakefulness and sleep, hiccuping sobs still racking his shoulders as he too grew silent and pensive under the weight of the curse: now renewed.
there was no escape. there had never been the hope of it, and now merrick had made a blood pact with that writhing part of himself.
he breathed the last of indra’s scent.