The trial date was set: June 15th—just three months away. Three agonizing, stomach-churning months away. And, on top of that, she still had to rehearse. Porsha felt as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, and it showed. At first, it was normal things, like dull, matted fur, and tired eyes—things the young wolf could easily brush off. She was thankful she didn't have to act, in order to do that. The gang all playfully made fun of her not-so-good acting, which she took in stride.

But things escalated. She stopped eating, barely drank water, and sleepless nights all compiled over the course of that first month. Not to mention an important visit she had to make.

The day before, when Porsha walked into the theater for rehearsal, everybody noticed that something was off. The female wolf, however, insisted that she was fine. "Just a little tired is all". Besides her unusually unkempt appearance, Porsha had an air of sadness that was very unlike her. So, when Buster called for everyone to take ten, Ash went out into the lobby, where Porsha was drinking her strawberry smoothie.

"Hey, baby sis," the porcupine told Porsha with a smile, calling her by a familiar nickname.

Porsha muttered a small, soft "Hey, Ash" in between sipping her smoothie through a straw. Then, silence. Really, really awkward silence. Most of the gang, including Ash, knew that Porsha was prone to overreacting, but this was something else. But the resident rocker of the group wasn't the best with touchy-feely crap. Unless it was in a song she wrote.

"So, uh," Ash struggled to find the words, tensing up, "you don't look too hot. Is e-everything ok, Porsha?"

That set it all off. Porsha looked at Ash with wide eyes, whimpering, tears in her eyes. 'Oh, crap!' she thought. 'Now I've done it!' Before she could even react, however, the wolf girl's eyes glazed over.

Then, she collapsed, landing on the ground with a solid thud. Ash ran into the theater in a panic and shouted "Porsha fainted!" Rosita the pig, the mother of the group, raced out to the lobby, while Buster called an ambulance.

—

After Porsha was taken to the hospital, doctors immediately gave her an IV to rehydrate her, and went to work replenishing her electrolytes. After the gang waited about an hour in the sterile waiting room, the doctor—a female badger—walked over to them. Porsha would be okay, now that she was rehydrated, and she'd also been given some food. The gang breathed a collective sigh of relief, but the doctor wasn't done. It appeared that her lack of food and water were caused by a significant amount of stress, and that she'd need some time to recuperate. And that meant no rehearsals or performances until further notice. She then left after being called to assist another doctor.

Buster's eyes widened at the stress comment, the realization piercing his heart like a knife. "Tomorrow…is the 7th," he said, voice soft and wavering.

"You mean, the date?" asked Meena, nervous.

Ash then asked, with a sense of urgency for Porsha, "Moon, what does that mean?" Buster trembled and he took a deep breath to calm himself before turning to the whole gang, the suspense so palpable not even a knife could cut it.

"The 7th is…the day her mother, Melody Crystal, died," said the koala in a dower tone.

Everyone gasped, as Porsha's odd behavior finally made sense. A collective pang of sorrow was felt.

Meena felt hot tears stream down her cheeks, shaking and sobbing silently. Gunter, who was always quick to lighten the mood in bad times with a fun or quirky comment, couldn't bring himself to do so. Johnny and Nooshy's heads hung low, each ashamed for not trying to help their friend sooner. Ash's stomach churned. As if letting Porsha just faint was bad enough, now she was even more guilty. Even Clay, who usually carried himself stoically around the other animals in the troupe, was moved to tears. He understood the pain of losing someone, even after moving on.

Everything else seemed to fade. Then, there was just silence. A horrible, painful silence