A/N: This is just a little random drabble. Don't mind the randomness of it. It's supposed to be sad, but I may fail at the sadness.

NOTE!: Myste is pronounced 'meest', like saying missed, but with an 'e' instead of an 'i' and a 't' instead of an 'ed'. Dudere is pronounced 'dew-dairy'.

'Blue wolf, blue wolf, come with me, hear me, howl loud, howl loud. Two miles, two miles, running away, without you, crying, crying. Bright eyes, bright eyes, on the moving silver wolf, it had black paws, made of bounce stuff, made of bounce stuff. The light, the light, as I lose my last life, as I leave forever, not to return, not to return...

… Remember me, remember me, as you craft your life like you craft your mechanics, please remember me from our meeting to my death and so on to yours when we shall meet again, Myste Robin, Myste Robin.'

It was two years after his death. After the death of Dudere. After the death of her only loved one alive. She whispered to herself a prayer, a prayer that he would return in another form.

He never did come back. He never did revisit her. He never did return. She was alone, dressed in black, a hood covering her head and face. Her once light, mist-blue fur was stuffed down onto her body under the black coat, shadow-colored jeans, and space dark boots.

She wept a single tear, shaking, swallowing, trying not to choke. She was alone now, without an adopted brother, without a step-brother, without a pure-blood brother.

Without anything but her tools, life, body, soul, pride, hope, and ideas.

Her mind soon clouded and her ideas shrank about a week after his death. Then came her pride, leaking out of her faster than water. Her hope had been covered up easily with grief later on. She melted her tools and left the now-liquified mixture of metals where they last were. She was left with her life, body, and soul, and even her soul felt fractured and scattered. Without him, she was nothing.

She held everything about herself with him. She had to, had to have him. She needed him, his comforting words when she smashed her finger purple; his smiling face when she was uncertain; his soft, caring laugh when she made the funniest of things as she laughed at her creation of her pride being too silly. Now, she had bruises all over her body, and no one was there to tell her that the pain would subdue quickly; no one was there to up her spirits and hope of creating something when she didn't know if it would work; no one would laugh with her, which caused her to soon stop laughing forever.

Where was he?

Was he stuck?

Was he lost?

Will he remember me?

"I don't know... I want him back... Please return..." She whispered, then began a small rhyme in the type of tone they used all the time: "Red fox, red fox, where are you? Dudere, Dudere, I need you!...

… For me, for me, please come back..." were her final words as she never left her room, dying starved, grieved, parched, and lost forever without him. Forever, forever, without him...