Disclaimer: I do no own TMNT.
Warnings: Confusion may ensue
Mindless Babble: The title of the story loosely translates into "Letters to the Dead". (Directly translated, it means Dead People Letters)
Epilogue/ Prologue
The Gathered Ones
They watched. They learned. They marveled at the love expressed. They wondered how this could have happened. And they acted.
"This was not my choice," the woman in black said.
"It was not her doing," added the large, black bird the perched on the woman's shoulder.
"This was not intended," said the man with the quill in hand.
"It must be rectified," said the man with the painter's brush.
"No one should be alone like that," a soft voice said from the shadows.
"This task you have set before me, yet again, will be done. Gladly." This voice is young.
A flash of silver fell as a scythe tore open a portal in the fabric of space. The young child smiled and bowed before slipping through it. The portal closed and the story began again.
Words fell from pomegranate colored lips. "Now we wait."
"And hope," said the writer
"And pray," said the painter.