She brought flowers to the wall. Snatched them from windowsills, picked the few winter ones that remained. She couldn't go to that place, not yet, but she still left the wall and strode through the snowy fields every day in search of flowers.

Outside was the only place she felt free, where she could almost forget and let her thoughts fade into the cold night air. The Guardians' pity was smothering. Tyren was a harsh reminder. And the city...

She'd sit and watch them, leaning on a wall, listening to their laughter. Warfang was rebuilding, slowly but surely. Funerals were held and pain buried there, talk faded, and people began to move on. Candles that had once burned bright in the windows were being blown out. People donned bright colours again as their minds turned towards the approaching Winter Festival.

Still the girl stared, eyes hollow under her hood. As people walked past her, smiling and laughing, she had to turn away. They forgot, she thought, walking into the shadows, putting the bright city squares behind her. They forgot Auren.

But life went on.

It wasn't safe to hold a traditional funeral for any person, and Dia had had no relatives to take care of it. So they buried them in the graveyard with everyone else. Somehow, that was comforting for her. She didn't like to imagine him entombed miles under the ice, never decaying, frozen. But she couldn't face his grave, so the flowers went to the wall.

That was better, anyway. His resting place wasn't in the cramped graveyard, surrounded by people that had died hundreds of years before him. It was there, in that spot where they'd spent so many nights with their friends.

The days wore on, and even the emptiness of loss began to fade. But she didn't forget to bring flowers to the wall.

~~...~~

Tyren was a welcome addition to their little ragtag family, if one that went rather unnoticed. He was quiet and well-behaved, intelligent and polite. But he was also very out of place. The little boy didn't much speak to anyone.

They'd returned to the ruins, him and the girl, to pick out what little of his belongings hadn't been destroyed. Almost everything was buried, but they'd located his broken creations in the wreckage. So Tyren mostly spent the time in his room, putting the scraps back together. The girl would lean on the bed and watch him.

He remained solidly attached to the girl's hip, though he was beginning to settle in. But he still would crawl into bed with her near every night, before the nightmares could drown him in terror. Her warmth was a comfort, and he'd stopped waking with Dreadwings' screams in his ears.

As for her... Well, every morning, she'd put on her brave face. If it wasn't for Tyren, she probably would have crawled into bed and stayed there. But she knew that he needed her to be strong and not cry. So she managed, and tried to muster the will to smile. It was working, anyway. The child was slowly starting to heal.

Sometimes, when she could get Tyren to laugh, she'd see Auren's face in his, or hear an echo of his snicker, and she quickly shoved that memory down. Tyren wasn't a ghost of his brother, and she wouldn't treat him that way. But the ache of it lingered, and it kept Auren always on her mind.

"I just can't believe he's gone," she told Ignitus one day. They were in the library, but the cheerful winter daylight streaming in through the high-set windows couldn't seem to light up her face. "I got used to bad stuff happening to me. I could live with that... But, despite everything, I at least never lost anyone."

The girl hadn't spoken much about how she was feeling, and the confession had burst out suddenly. She was cracking, that much Ignitus could see. One push and she'd shatter. So he said delicately, "You've been acting different as of late."

She averted her eyes and leaned her head down on the table. "Tyren can't see me cry," she muttered. "I'll do what I have to to make sure he can move on."

"And what about you?" The wise old dragon tilted his head. "Is risking your own sanity really worth that?"

"Yes." The girl sat up, flames dancing in her eyes. "It's too late for me. But Tyren can still move on. Me, I..." She felt in her chest for any hint of feeling, but her heart was solid stone. Her gaze on the table hardened. "Well, I've resigned myself."

He examined her with red eyes. His voice was impassive, though it contained a layer of concern. "You both can," he said. "I assure you that Tyren is feeling the same, as does everyone who experiences what you have. There's no need to accept your own suffering."

The girl shook her head. "You can't understand how this feels." Like nothing, she thought. Like an ache, a craving, a hunger that couldn't be fulfilled. Like being tired, but unable to sleep. It was quiet for a moment, and she wouldn't meet his eyes as she spoke. "Do you want to know something I said to him?" She didn't wait for his response. "I told him that everything changes. Everything you love will go away.

"Do you want to know... what he said? He said..." Her voice was cracking, his eyes were piercing her memories, but she couldn't stop. "He said to just find more."

The moment of silence was crushing, and she laughed shakily. "But how can you just move on?"

Impossible, at least as long as Auren remained in her dreams. On the nights where she didn't slip into a pleasant black emptiness, or a horrifying, bloody nightmare, the girl instead saw him. His eyes were like a pale blue lighthouse beam that stretched on for miles, and she followed it over the dusky landscape until she found him.

He'd float there before her, then lift his arm, pointing. Where? She'd turn to follow his claw, but whenever she looked back, he was gone. Evaporated into the blizzard.

Then, she'd wander into the snow, tramping on until her limbs went as numb as her heart, but there was nothing. Nothing around her but encroaching, suffocating white snow. Even still, she had to know. Where, where was he pointing? Where could he be leading her?

Why should you care about me? his voice would ask in her head. Then, You're going to hurt yourself. It's time to move on.

She'd ignore him, and he'd say insistently, Just find more things to love.

"I won't forget you!" she'd scream, her breath turning to a fog that wrapped around her, choking, and then she'd wake up. His voice would ring in her ears, Just find more.

It wasn't easy. But things were getting better. With every morning, every new day, it became a little easier to smile with sincerity. Auren stopped haunting her nightmares. She stopped waiting for him to appear as she sat alone on the wall, as if this was all some nightmare she could wake up from.

Was this "moving on"? She didn't know. But the ghosts were retreating, the scars fading. The girl supposed that this was something, at least.

"I miss Auren," Tyren said one day.

They were curled up on the couch as they often were, the girl sitting with her legs to the side, Tyren on her lap with his head nuzzled into her chin and her arms around him. Sometimes she would read to him, and sometimes they would just sit there together, lost in their memories.

There was an unspoken rule between them. They didn't talk about Auren; they didn't talk about that horrible day. Not to each other, not to anyone. But Tyren missed his brother, and he had to say something, or else it would fester inside him.

The girl knew that she should have remained brave and strong. She should have patted his head, given him comfort, reassured him that it was normal to feel like that.

But hearing that little boy say what she was feeling, something snapped inside her. The tears were already welling up as she said shakily, "Me too." And she held him as they cried, two small souls that had both lost something very dear to them, someone who would never fill a room with laughter or toss a grin over his shoulder ever again.

It was the only time she let Tyren see her cry. After that, she became ever more wary and aloof, careful to keep her emotions under wraps.

But there was something she wanted to do for the boy. A place, she thought, that may help him come to terms with what had happened. So one day, she led him through the hole in the wall and to the east, unwary that she was making the biggest mistake of her life.


"Where are we going?"

"Shh. It's a surprise."

It was a pretty winter day, with a sky as pure blue as a sapphire. The white covering the world sparkled blindingly in the light that filtered through the bare tree branches, and the duo left thick tracks in the otherwise perfect layer of snow.

The girl had her hood down, and the wind was whipping her hair about. She walked slowly as Tyren was struggling through the drifts of snow almost as tall as he was. Smiling at his trouble, she lifted him onto her back, and the boy laughed from the rush.

Soon enough, they could hear the waterfall and the bubbling river that accompanied it. The girl crested the hill quickly, a grin on her face, and within moments they arrived at the top. Tyren scampered down off her shoulders and walked forward, staring about in wonder.

She'd never seen this pretty little copse in the daytime, and though its magical night aura was gone, it had a rich beauty that bloomed in the sunlight. The trees here were the kind that kept their leaves, so it was nice and shady, and the burbling waterfall just seemed so friendly. Golden winter flowers poked their petals through the snow, turning a world usually white and brown into a colourful rainbow.

"What is this place?" Tyren asked as he stepped into a patch of sunlight. He beamed up at the sky, at the flower-flecked branches of a slender tree.

The girl plopped down into the snow. "Auren showed me it. He said that he always came here."

At this, Tyren stopped and his smile faded. All of a sudden, the wonder was gone. He thought about this for a moment, a queer look on his face. Then, in a moment, the light was gone from his eyes. "Auren never took me here."

She shrugged in response, not noticing his expression. "I guess he just wanted to be alone sometimes."

"Away from me and Mama?" the child shot back darkly. His face was now stormy, a contrast to the clear weather. "He brought you here..."

The girl realized her mistake immediately, and she said quickly, sitting up from her snowbed, "That's not what I meant... He only brought me here once, anyway. I don't think he meant to ever show anybody."

But it was too late to placate him. Tyren turned, his purple eyes on the ground. "I wanna go ho..." He realized, then, that there was no going home, and his eyes widened a moment. But he corrected himself, "I'm going."

With big confused eyes, his friend watched him tramp heavily down the hill, kicking up and ruining the pretty snow in his wake. All the energy and light that had once burst from this magical thicket went with him. Finally, she shrugged to herself and stood.

She supposed he was just hurt that Auren had showed her this place and not him. She supposed that she should have known better than to bring him here so soon after. Just a small mistake, soon forgiven.

The girl followed him, but Tyren didn't talk at all on the way back, or at all for the rest of the day. The girl had no idea what she'd just set into motion, the major consequences of the little transgression she had made.

~~...~~

Tyren, once quiet and well-behaved, suddenly became rather ill-tempered. He wouldn't speak to anyone, and if they tried, he'd snap at them in a way that was extremely out of character. He stayed in his room and refused to see anybody, nor would he eat or even come to the table.

The girl left him alone and beseeched the Guardians to do the same. She realized what he must be going through to change his personality this drastically, and she figured he'd be back to his demure self in a week.

But he wasn't getting better.

Had she done this to him? Just by bringing him to that place... How could she have known that he would react that way? The girl cursed herself for her stupidity. Gone were the days where they had sat together, comforting each other silently, close in ways words couldn't describe. Now he only pushed her away.

This couldn't last; something was bound to happen. One dark evening, as night encroached on the world, it all came to a climax. And the two were sent spiralling out of control, into oblivion.

The girl was reading in the living room when she heard heavy tramping footsteps coming down the stairs. All the Guardians were out, so there was no doubt who it was. She didn't want to agitate him, so she tried to ignore the boy as he stood there at the edge of the staircase, his hard gaze piercing her. Finally, he spoke.

"Why did he show you that place?" His voice was unusually soft, and she looked up in surprise. For the child that had been a tempest of anger these past few days, she hadn't expected sadness.

At least he was finally saying what was on his mind. "I don't know. It's not like he planned on ever showing anyone," she said carefully. "It just happened. I'm sure he would have taken you there eventually."

For a moment he seemed placated. But then the stormy look returned. "It's not fair," he mumbled with a sniffle. "You were going to..." Tyren trailed off and shook his head with a grimace. "He was my brother, not yours!"

The girl recoiled as if stabbed; she was trying to remain patient, but that hurt. "I cared about him too!" she exclaimed, unable to push down her temper. "It's not like I made him do it. He can make his own decisions!" Could.

Tyren growled in frustration. "It's not fair! I want Auren back, I want him!"

"Well," the girl closed her book with a huff and a slam, "blaming me won't bring him back!"

He only stood there for a moment, a scowl marring his features. The child turned and ran, out the door before she could even move. At once her flare of anger faded and she hopped to her feet. "Tyren! Wait!"

She dashed through the open door and whipped her head about, but Tyren was nowhere to be seen. The only illumination came from the blinding sun to the west. And then, at once, the light faded with a last sparkle and Warfang was drenched in darkness. She stood in the street a few seconds, eyes still darting about wildly, as her frantic mind collected her thoughts.

The Guardians were out, on what business she wasn't sure. She couldn't ask them for help. If she was going to find Tyren... she had to do it on her own.

This wasn't the time to panic. She could sit in the living room and cry woe-is-me, or she could go out and find the boy herself. So she took a deep breath to calm herself and set off into the dark. Is this what growing up is like? she thought as she skirted between buildings. Having to do things by yourself?

But when she returned home an hour later, her search yielded no results. She'd checked every corner, in every dark alley, behind every abandoned stall, but there was no small dragon to be found. And as she entered the house, she saw that it was just as dark and empty as she'd left it.

In that gloomy room, with only a candle still burning on the table, the girl collapsed onto the couch. Her body was numb as she stared wide-eyed and still at the floor. How could this be real? How could Tyren just disappear? She'd have to go out again soon... But what if she searched all night and couldn't find him?

Her only spot of luck was that the Guardians returned just a few minutes later. "Why is it so bloody dark in here?" Cyril was grumbling. "I feel like I live in a cave..."

Candles were lit, the room illuminated, and they all stopped in confusion upon seeing their young charge sitting stricken and alone. She looked up slowly, her face swimming in the shadows. "Tyren ran away."

The words startled all of them, but it was Terrador who recovered first. "What? How long ago was this?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. He was as calm as usual, but even he looked worried.

"An hour ago," the girl mumbled, casting her gaze downwards. "I looked for him, but... We got in a fight..." She turned her head up, pain flooding into her eyes. "I didn't mean to! I didn't know he would...!"

"Alright, alright," Ignitus comforted, walking over and laying a paw on her shoulder. "You say it's been an hour? Let's wait another, and if he doesn't come back, we'll start a search party. Children run off often; it's not time to worry yet."

The girl knew that she should have felt better at these reassuring words, but she didn't. Tyren was out there, alone... And she was completely in the dark, helpless, unable to do anything but wait.

So they sat there for a long time, hoping to little avail. Occasionally someone would go look outside, check for a moving shadow or a scale reflecting in the dark, but nothing happened.

As time passed, the girl grew more and more restless. She went from sitting shocked on the couch to pacing about. Her steps grew heavier and more frantic as the minutes dragged on, until finally, when Volteer returned from checking the garden for the twelfth time, she slammed her fist into the wall.

The bang was still resounding as she cried, "I can't just sit here and do nothing!"

The four dragons exchanged glances and finally nodded. She was right–though perhaps she could have expressed it better–but it had been too long. For a little seven-year-old on the streets, or in the forest, alone and upset... It was time.

They couldn't have known, of course, just how serious the situation really was. But as they headed for the councilhouse to organize a search party, the girl felt that something was wrong. Whether it was just panic or a sixth sense, she couldn't be sure. But something wasn't right.

Her pleading gaze turned to the moons, though she knew those red and green rocks couldn't help her. What she didn't know was just how bad things were about to get, or the long-lasting consequences of what was going to happen that night.

~~...~~

It's been three hours. Do you really think he's going to make it?

If he got into the woods? No way. Kid's a goner.

If the apes don't get 'im, the wildlife will. Or the drops. All sortsa cliffs and hills down here. Little kid like that won't stand a chance.

They say that the Guardians' charge, that cheetah girl, hasn't been seen in public ever since... you know. Wonder what happened to her. And now this.

That boy's brother died. Then suddenly, he appears with the Guardians. Girl musta known that dead kid.

Maybe. It'll be a wonder if she doesn't go insane after this.

She wanted to scream at them to shut up, but only one word came out of her mouth: "Tyren!"

His name resounded across the woods, echoing through the bare trees, reaching into caves and sending creatures crawling and slithering into the dark. Screamed by a hundred voices, echoing across every square inch of the woods. But none of it reached the boy's ears.

Once, the girl thought, they had done this for her and Auren. Now she was the one walking in lines, shouting a name, searching for someone who could be lost or dead or gone forever. And the Guardians...

Well, she knew that they had done this at least once before. For that boy who'd run off into the woods, never to be seen again. She wondered if he was still alive. And then she remembered Tyren, and she caught her drifting thoughts to focus.

But the longer they were out there, the more her hope faded. They already had swept the city–and where could a young child hide for long in Warfang? He didn't know about the ruins, but they'd checked just in case. Nothing but dust and echoes.

So where could he be?

As the four of them stepped into a pretty little clearing that the girl would have happily dreamed in under other circumstances, Terrador leaned down to the girl and said quietly, "We may have to accept..."

"No," she cut him off loudly, expression turning stony. She ignored the people in her line who quickly turned away. "I'm not accepting anything until we have a body." The gravity of the words hit her; she swallowed and closed her eyes.

The earth dragon gazed down at her sympathetically. "The lands around Warfang are dangerous, full of sudden drops and tall cliffs... Rivers that could carry away even the strongest swimmer."

He went on for a bit rather unhelpfully, but the girl didn't hear him. She sucked in a breath and stopped as soon as he mentioned the cliffs and rivers. Big eyes followed the stream that snaked through the clearing, and her gaze turned to the eastward sky.

They all stopped to look at her sudden change of tone, and she narrowed her eyes, concern clouding over her face. A revelation she didn't want to face stood before her.

"I know where Tyren is."

~~...~~

The hill seemed taller than it ever had before, though climbing it was already no small feat. By the time they neared the top, the girl had to grab onto the great roots sticking out of the earth to drag herself up, and even the Guardians looked winded.

But as her head came over the top of the snow, she realized that she was right. Something about seeing Tyren there, so like his brother, sitting at the edge of the waterfall and staring down at the plummet below, set her heart pounding in her chest. But she took a breath and wiped the emotion off her face.

She glanced behind her to the Guardians and made a signal for them to stay where they were. She didn't want to crowd him. They listened, though none looked happy about it. "Tyren?"

The boy jumped and whirled around. Seeing the five of them encroaching, terror crept into his eyes. "Don't come any closer! Stay there!"

She saw that he was scared, so slowly, the teenager lowered herself into the snow. "Alright." Once the child had settled down again, she said as gently as she could manage without setting her voice shaking, "I'm not mad at you. I just want to bring you home."

The girl saw that he'd been crying as he wiped his eyes and turned back to the waterfall. "Uh-uh. I'm not going back there."

"Why?" she asked patiently, inching closer. He didn't notice.

Tyren didn't answer at first. He leaned forward, teetering over the edge, so close that he could feel the little bits of water biting at his scales. The girl shifted, anxious, but she wasn't close enough to grab him.

Finally, Tyren spoke. His voice was impassive, his eyes blank, and he sounded countless years older than he was. "I was thinking... What if I wasn't here next week? If one day, everyone woke up, and I wasn't there anymore?" He tilted his head, genuine curiosity in his expression. "What would happen then?"

Her heart jumped and she dug her fingers into her leg. These weren't the words of a seven-year-old. This was too much, too old for innocent little Tyren. She wanted to scream, to grab him, to pull him into a hug. But all of a sudden, the girl understood the gravity of the situation. One bad word, one wrong move, and...

Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself, feeling the Guardians' eyes burning into her. She was too young for this. Talking down a kid from the edge at her age... This wasn't right. But, well, it was too late to worry about that. Here she was.

She sealed her heart away and said, managing to only quaver just a little, "Then... Then we would all miss you, Tyren."

"But..." The child blinked. "Everything would be the same, right?"

Did he even know what he was saying? Tyren was smart, and she was sure that he understood death and even suicide, but no child his age could really comprehend the finality of death. In a fit of anger or frustration, maybe they could act without knowing the cause... But no child ever stood at the edge of a cliff and knew what they were doing. There had to be another reason.

"Maybe the world wouldn't change much," she said carefully. "But for us, the people who love you, the world would be different forever. Isn't that what matters?"

Finally, he looked back at her. The expression in his eyes startled her out of her impassiveness for a moment. How could this be the bright, intelligent boy who'd become like her little brother? "You wouldn't care," he said coldly.

"What do you...?"

"I heard them. You're going to leave. I heard them!" He glared at her accusingly, but it wasn't anger in his eyes; it was a wound, a scar she'd inflicted. "You'll go back and forget about me!"

There it was. That was the reason. She'd thought it was just that Auren had showed her his secret place... A small problem, easily fixed, a misunderstanding. But this... She had caused this. She had done this to him!

He won't jump, she thought frantically, breathing faster in panic, though her expression didn't change. He won't. It's not too late. But he was getting upset, and that was dangerous. "I won't forget," she reassured quietly. "And I'm not going to leave you so soon, I promise." It's not too late.

"I don't want you to leave at all!" The hatchling hopped to his feet, glaring back at her. He was crying now, tearstreaks making his scales glimmer in the moonlight. "If you're going to leave... I'll jump!"

He just wanted to stop her from going... She couldn't lie to him, she just couldn't. But she had to get him away from that edge, and fast. "What will that solve?" she implored. "If you do that, it won't bring Auren back. It won't keep me here! So..." She'd managed to inch close enough to almost touch him, and she held out her hand. "So, let's go home."

Tyren deflated and looked away, and the girl reached out, thinking it was over. The waterfall rushed wildly below him, the white water reaching up to grab his ankles. Far below, down a drop as tall as a mountain, rocks jutted out of the river. Waiting for him. She, his only friend–family–left, would go. But maybe, if he did this, he could stop it. In his young mind, after all the madness he'd endured, it was the only thing that made sense.

The boy only deliberated for a moment; if he thought about it, he would have understood that this wouldn't fix anything. So he didn't think. It happened so fast, one instant there, the next gone.

He jumped.

The girl screamed and threw herself forward, falling to the ground, but the air whooshed around her hands where he had been. She could only watch him disappear over the rocky edge. She scrambled forward, but by the time she made it to peer down the waterfall, he was gone. There was nothing but the screaming, howling river, the murky rushing waters.

Ignitus had already rushed forward with the others, and they all peered down over the edge as well. But not even a pale blue body was visible in the churning river far below.

Slowly, the girl reached out and grabbed him, still staring down that drop. Her grip was tight, her hands shaking, but she couldn't feel a thing. "Go," she croaked, her eyes a mix of desperation and determination, "Go get him... Or I swear to god, I'll throw myself off after him!"

The four didn't need any more push, and they didn't doubt it. Spreading their wings, the dragons flew as fast as they could towards the bottom. The girl wasn't far behind. A semi-steep grassy cliff face led down there, and she scrambled down the rocks without any care for her own safety.

At one point she slipped, falling backwards and cutting her arm on the jutting rocks as well as ruining her cloak with tears and dirt. She felt no pain despite the drops of blood that stained the crags. As soon as she reached the river in the valley far below, she hopped down, grunting as she landed on her feet, and started running.

Along the bank the five of them sprinted, eyes scanning for any sign of him. The water was clearer down here, but it churned with foam and debris, so it was several minutes before they saw anything.

The girl saw his body laying motionless far down the river, so far that she could barely see the place where he had jumped through the trees. She stood there staring for several seconds before it registered, and moments later she was on her knees in the shallow pool. "Tyren!"

He was as still as the grave, laying unconscious and unmoving with his body scarred with bruises and cuts, mud and sand. Breathe... she thought desperately, putting a hand under his nose and neck. Breathe...

Finally, a weak heartbeat reached her fingers, and the unconscious child let out a slow, raspy breath. "He's alive," she whispered, hunched over him, then screamed, "I found him! He's alive!"

The Guardians were there in moments, and she helped load him up onto Volteer's back, as he was the fastest flyer out of all of them. She noticed for a moment the odd angle his legs were at; the stretched, contorted position he was in. But then the dragon took off and he was gone.

He'll make it, she thought, not knowing if it was a lie or not.

Without hesitation she ran into the forest, to Warfang, the others at her heels all the way. At one time she would have laughed at outpacing them. At one time, the cold air on her skin, the wind rushing around her, would have left her exhilarated and happy.

Now, she felt like she was running for her life. If she didn't make it back home in time, Tyren would die, at least that's what she told herself. So she sprinted as if she was racing the reaper himself.

That was her last clear memory, running through the stark white forest. The rest of the night was a blur. By the time she made it home, Zara was there, treating Tyren who lay unconscious on the couch.

"Bones need to be set," the doctor was mumbling. "Water in his lungs... Two broken legs, maybe worse... A concussion at best... This is bad, very bad."

The words weren't at all reassuring, and the girl nearly fainted in the doorway. She had to catch the edge of the wall. But she managed to collapse next to the couch, in sight of Tyren but out of the way. And that was where she stayed all through that terrible night.

They don't tell you, she thought dissociatively some hours after she had fallen there. The way suicide is portrayed, they're gone in an instant. They don't tell you about the in-between, the waiting, the failed and almost-failed attempts. The moment relief floods in, you think they're going to be okay, their heart stops again. And you're back to square one.

Until you start to wish they would die or get better, just so it could be over either way.

She listened impassively to the cries of, "He stopped breathing!", Tyren's screams as he awoke in pain and slipped into unconsciousness again, until she became numb to them. Until dawn finally came, and the boy managed to stay breathing and stabilized for over an hour.

Zara, looking drained, went into the backyard to take a break and get some fresh air. She knew that she should have gone with him, but she couldn't bring herself to leave Tyren's side.

It was in that pretty morning light that Tyren finally opened his eyes. They were blurred and delirious, but his voice startled the girl out of her shocked reverie. "Fighta?" His voice had slipped back into that lisp that he'd been doing his best to muffle.

"Tyren!" The girl scooted over, taking his unbroken paw into her hands. That aloofness she'd been keeping up was gone; now, raw emotion was on her face. It didn't matter if he saw her cry now, so she let the tears slip down her cheeks.

The little boy grimaced in pain and exhaustion. His body hurt and it wasn't moving. "Sorry," he mumbled, his claws twitching in her hands, "Didn't mean to. Scared. I don't want you to go." He closed his eyes, nuzzling his head into the soft couch. "Don't go."

She had to take a breath and wipe away her tears, but soon, she was clasping his paw again with all her might. "I won't leave right now, Tyren. I'm here."

So the child slept. But the girl remained there for hours, keeping her promise. She didn't let go of him for a single second.