Shaylith sat at the foot of the bed on a chair, overlooking the old man sleeping.
Butterflies churned in her stomach. She just couldn't process it. He was sick. Sick. Out of all people. Him, now, at the worst of times. His condition worsened every breath, and Shaylith couldn't bear losing him. Not after losing Illidan.
Tora, her faithful companion for all these years, grumbled quietly, curling up against the leg of the huntress. She knew what was happening. Shaylith softly stroked the fur of the cat, smiling softly.
She hadn't left his side since he turned bedridden. At first, they just thought is was a simple cold. Oh, how wrong were they. She felt stupid, just shrugging it off. She regretted the last week, how she didn't just find him medical attention instead of making him a bowl of hot soup or something.
Thollo had been in a coma for three days now. But to Shaylith, it felt like an eternity. She felt like crying, but she refused to. She had to remain strong for him. She played with her long, messy braid a little, to pass the time. Her eyes grew wide, as his soft breathing stopped. She whipped around, two fingers on the side of his neck immediately.
Nothing. Not a single beat. Heat fled from his body, as hot tears fled from her eyes. She didn't know what to do. She just sat there, frozen. Simple tears turned into loud sobs, and her hands held her eyes.
What would she do now? Her best friend for all these years is gone. Without a thought, she took a blade, and slowly, dragged it across her neck.
She woke up screaming. Her skin was as red as her skin would allow, and sweat poured from her face. Tora, who looked around sleepily after being woken up from her rest yawned. Shaylith dashed up the stairs to his room, the paladin sitting up.
"Thollo.." She pounced the sleepy old man, hugging him tightly. "Shaylith.. What's wrong?" He returned the hug, tears running down his shoulder. When she tried to push something out, it only came out as choked sobs. He hushed her softly. "It was only a dream.."