There was something quite grave in the tone of Owlan's voice. He was stern by default, but whatever was hidden beneath his calm appearance worried Horwell. No "please" when he asked for him to follow—whatever required his attention was something very serious.
One their way out of the academy, Horwell began to wonder if he should anticipate the students jumping out, but the briskness of Owlan's pace made him drop his guard soon afterward. Waiting for them with her back turned was the lovely Wryna (who today, despite still being lovely, appeared quite stressed), standing tensely in the grass and wringing her hands together nervously.
"Here's Horwell," Owlan murmured, standing off to the side after Wryna turned around, startled.
"Oh, thank you," she said quickly, placing a hand flat above her breasts, clasping it in the other. "Instructor Horwell, I'm so sorry to bother you... But you're good with animals, right?"
"I would like to think so! Is something wrong with your Loftwing?"
Wryna clenched her hand into a fist and pressed it against her lips as she shook her head. "It's... Well, um, we just..." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled, and started over with a slightly calmer voice. "We have a dog. And our dog had puppies a while ago, um, four of them, but one of them keeps getting pushed away, and she won't eat solid food or drink whatever we try to give her, and... Um, do you think you could...?"
Horwell regarded her with concern, nodding sympathetically. "You want me to have a look? Sure, I can do that." Wryna's shoulders collapsed with relief and she beckoned him along, walking across the overhanging path toward the other side of Skyloft.
She rambled on about nothing in particular, fidgeting constantly, running a hand through her hair or adjusting where her shirt bunched up at her waist. What she had told him already was enough for Horwell to begin assuming the likely outcome.
"I just hate seeing Kukiel upset, and I'm as worried as she is about the poor little thing... We were planning on giving the puppy to one of her little friends down the road..."
"Really? That's awfully nice of you," Horwell replied, making sure Wryna saw him smile. "I'm sure Kukiel's friend will take good care of the puppy."
Tense silence followed for the remaining distance, and as he waited for Wryna to unlock the door to her house, Horwell began preparing himself mentally for whatever would happen. Treating a runt wasn't impossible, but puppies were quite different from kittens, and even with proper care, nature still might decide to run its course.
"Kukiel? Sweetie? I brought Instructor Horwell to look at the puppy for us. Where are y—oh, there you a—" With a gasp, Wryna's hands flew to her mouth and she hurriedly took the tiny creature from her daughter's hands when she saw it. "I told you to leave her with the other puppies, honey! Look, she's cold now..." She fumbled in place, taking a few steps toward the back of her home before whirling around, placing a gentle hand on the girl's cloaked shoulder. "Here, let Horwell see—...Kukiel?"
"Mama, the puppy won't wake up," Kukiel mumbled, gently jostling her in both hands. "I kept her warm! Really, I did, promise!" Her voice quivered weakly, and she turned to her mother before frantically thrusting the puppy toward Horwell. "Unstrucker Horwell, here, Mama said you'll make her better..."
Horwell's lips thinned as he lowered himself to his knees, cupping his hands as Kukiel placed the puppy into them with the gentleness of a fairy. She watched intently, leaning into her mother's side with her breath hitched in her throat. Reluctantly, the teacher glanced up toward Wryna, and a gesture of mutual, pitiful understanding connected their gazes.
Still, he cradled the dead puppy against his chest in one arm, gently turning the head from side to side with one finger, lifting her tiny, naked paws with their tips, stroking her cold ear with the fondness of a father. Even if he'd arrived earlier and cared for it by himself, Horwell knew the puppy was not made to survive. It was simply too small, practically hairless, a helpless creature born into a cruel world that refused to accept it. His heart ached terribly, a deep frown settling on his features.
"Can you fix her, Unstrucker?"
Slowly, he looked up at Kukiel and her mother, taking the puppy away from the warmth of his body. "I'm sorry, Kukiel," he said somberly, glancing away as the girl went rigid where she should. "I can't fix the puppy. But you've done a wonderful job taking care of her and the rest of the puppies."
The girl's voice trembled when she spoke, and she latched onto her mother's arms as they circled her shoulders. "Why not? She was okay a little while ago... You're an animal doctor; Mama said you'd be able to fix her..." Kukiel shook her head, reaching for the puppy with one hand. Horwell inched forward on his knees and extended his hands toward her, watching her run her hand softly rhythmically along the length of the puppy's body. "Is she gonna wake up?"
"Kukiel..." Wryna began softly, squeezing her daughter's shoulders. Her mouth fluttered silently for a few seconds as she searched for words. "The puppy... She's not going to wake up. She's going to be asleep for a very, very long time. Longer than we'll be here in Skyloft..."
"How long...?"
Another moment of hesitation. "...forever, Kukiel. The puppy's body has stopped working. She was very sick, and even though you took very good care of her, the goddess decided that it was time for the puppy to go with her to the Sacred Realm. She's dead, sweetie..."
Kukiel's dark eyes glistened in the sunlight as she struggled to process what her mother was attempting to explain. "But Mama, I promised I'd take really good care of her... I want her back. I want her to wake up! Unstrucker Horwell, come on, please, you've gotta make her wake up...!"
Hearing such desperation and confusion in a young child's voice made Horwell slightly uncomfortable. He could understand Kukiel's frustrations—he himself wished it were possible to revive the puppy. If he could heal all of the sick and dying animals in the world, he would. Even as a grown man, he had difficulty comprehending the cruelty that was the cycle of life sometimes. But all things came to an end. Even good things. Innocent things. Helpless things.
"Kukiel," Horwell said softly, smiling kindly. "This puppy lived a very, very eventful life and I'm sure she was very happy to have you as an owner. She was very special and she loved you very much—as much as your mother and father love you, if not more. You were a kind friend to her, and now that the puppy is in the Sacred Realm, she'll be able to watch you grow up in a very, very far away place."
Fat tears began pooling in Kukiel's reddening eyes as her lower lip began to tremble. "I don't want her to be dead... P-please... fix..." Her lips parted, revealing her tightly clenched, chattering teeth. Unable to finish her sentence, Kukiel began to sob, turning and burying her face in the crook of her mother's shoulder. Horwell felt his heart crack.
"I'm sorry, Kukiel," he trailed off softly, and sat back, waiting patiently as Wryna consoled her daughter. "I wish that I could fix her as much as you. I can't bring her back, but there is one thing we can do for your puppy... Does she have a name?"
The little girl didn't turn her head, but eventually nodded against her mother's neck with a muffled reply.
"Hm?"
Wryna lowered her ear to Kukiel's face. "Blackie," she translated.
"I can help you give Blackie a funeral. And we can go ask Instructor Owlan for some pretty flowers to put on her grave to show her how much you'll always love her."
"Would you like that Kukiel?" Wryna whispered, threading her fingers in her daughter's messy ponytail. "You can pick the prettiest flowers in all of Skyloft just for Blackie, and Daddy will probably say some nice words for her..."
"We'll bury her wherever you want so you can remember where to visit her when you miss her," Horwell added, and waited for a reluctant nod of approval from Kukiel before he rose shakily to his feet, finally covering the puppy's head with what remained of his scarf. "Would you like to come with me now so you can see the flowers?"
Another slow, miserable nod. A ghost of a smile passed over Horwell's lips as Wryna lifted her daughter into her arms.
