7. Waste/Wasteland (Death, Lovejoy)
The smell of woodsmoke and burned paper is still heavy in the air. Most of the shelves have collapsed. Ashy fragments of pages litter the floor. The desk is a wreck, barely holding up. Nothing more remains of the Monsean Royal Library. Everything Death cares about is in ruins.
Almost everything.
"Come, you stubborn old fellow," he murmurs, crouching by the water bowl he's just filled. "You'll have to get out of there sometime."
Lovejoy emerges from under the desk and reluctantly consents to Death picking him up – but he does object to human tears falling on his fur.
(Author's Note: This is for you, Queen Bitterblue - the fanfiction writer, that is.)