When I Am Dead

He made the trek up these hills many times in the passed decade since she'd left him. Always the old master brought with him trinkets from the past. Something to remind her that he still loves her, that nothing would bar his,heart from her.

They hadn't buried her in the traditional spot of the masters alongside the original Furious Five in the gardens of the Jade Palace. Each one had statues of likeness but Tigress on her death bed had requested she be put to rest else where.

She'd clutched his arm in the struggle of remaining tangible. A stroke had destroyed her at the age of ninety, the cough she picked up not long after only sealed her fate. Tigress was too weak to fight the infection in her lungs. For once she had to give up the fight and only did when her husband press his aged palm against her cheek. Po told her it was alright to leave him now.

Tigress took great care of him in their sixty years spent together, he assured her he would be fine. She'd made sure of that from the day their friendship first blossomed in the wake of Tai Lung's defeat. Her smile was shakey and her breaths came out in huffs.

"Bury me in... in the Ironwood Trees, plant one above me... can you... can you do this for me, Po?"

Nodding his head the panda gave her his word but also added his two cents of making a statue in the garden for her. She'd chuckled weakly at that, especially as he added that generations to come deserved to witness the beauty of Tigress he'd gotten to enjoy.

"You silly panda... you were... always so good to me..."

They'd spoken of their life together from its beginning to its conclusion and everything in between. Somewhere along the line of discussing the grandchildren that their own cubs bore, Po found Tigress had grown do still. He'd heard the shuddering last breath of his mate as she made herself comfortable in the hospital ward's bed. The iron hard grasp of her paw against his weakened and Po felt her heartbeat sputter...

Thrice... twice... once...

And she was gone, looking as if she were merely asleep. Blinking passed the tears that threatened to fall, Po squeezed her paw, as if to comfort her spirit to keep going. She couldn't stay here, there was more waiting for her away from the physical plain. Po let her paw go to pull the blanket over her.

Even though she'd grown practicality snow white in her old age she still was beautiful as she'd been at thirty two. Po tucked her in and left the room to announce that the Master Tigress had finally died.

The reception he recalled to be the most sad he could remember, his cubs and grandchildren had held him close as they mourned one of the most important figures in their lives.

The Grandmaster kept his promise of burying his wife in the grove of Ironwood trees. He remembered the stories behind her fondness for them, that she spent twenty years punching and pounding the bark to train herself to never feel again. The claw marks still remained scorned on the wooden skin, tattooed by the orange cat now buried beneath it's roots. She'd taken her fill from these trees, now Tigress returned the sentiment with her own energy.

A young sapling stood where the tiger was buried, Po had planted it himself after picking out which seed was worthy of bring Tigress' last memory. He planned to carve her name into its bark once the young Ironwood grew large enough.

Right now though there was a simple stone slab that represented her name. Po often cleaned it with a paw, brushing dust off and making sure it remained clean.

Today he dropped onto one knee to leave behind flowers, laying the them flat against the earth. Po lit some incense as he sat in the traditional lotus position, paws against his knees.

He breathed in deeply, smiling as a strong wind shook the grove. The tops of the trees bent against its will, so powerful Po was almost convinced that the Ironwoods would fall down.

Po trusted that they wouldn't, as Tigress respected these trees far too much. The flowers he left flew upon the wind stream through the forest, flying high before vanishing above its branches. The other trinkets remained untouched but Po often found them disturbed, as if lovingly touched and admired.

The wind soon stopped and the panda enjoyed the warm sunlight against his back. For a moment, he imagined them as the arms of his tiger who would hold him close, whispering like the wind three heartfelt words during the night.

"I love you..."

Po knew Tigress all too well to recognize that she'd never really left.