Lunette Vuesain

I'm drowning in the waters of my soul

She had known her mother was fading, but unlike the time she had worked up the courage to ask her if she still loved her.. unlike that time, she never sat down with her, to talk, to.. make amends.. to somehow turn it into something she wouldn't regret.


And then, one day, Namid grew distant and confused, asking for her parents, not recognizing her daughter, or Kajika, and the regret settled heavily on Lunette's bones. The inevitable thing she had fought with every fiber of her being was happening. No more a ghost, the silver shadow stayed with her mother day and night, licking her muzzle clean from vomit, nudging her head out of the bile. She said nothing to Kajika, whom she frequently shared the space with. She said nothing to Tulip and Solas, who came with food for Namid. She only left to hunt and see to her own needs.


But she was there when Namid died.


She laid folded around the wasted form of her precious Mama, her half-lidded eyes watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, the lines of her face; her closed eyes, and how they sometimes roamed beneath her eyelids. Namid hadn't woken for a full day, and Kajika had recently left to see to himself. Lunette had since long given up on rousing her mother, and was left alone with the dying matriarch and the monster in her head. Not even this moment she could have in peace. Not even this inevitable thing would be allowed to pass, for if she'd only been a better daughter—how dare she stop trying—does she not love her Mama?


But oh, she loved her, even when she hurt her, so the girl suffered in silence, just waiting.


Namid breathed out. One of Lunette's ears gave a flick. After a moment, she held her breath, listening, realizing she'd been waiting for her to breathe in again—that all these hours laying by her dying mother's side, she'd been listening to every breath, just to make sure there was another.


Her eyes opened wider, and she raised her head, looking at the still form. Her face, gaunt and worn, but relaxed. Her side thin beneath a faint winter fur. Unmoving.


The next breath never came. Lunette's ears strained in the silence as she waited, each second painfully counted by her heartbeats, and still her mother did not breathe in again. Minutes ticked by. Whining softly, the silver girl pressed her nose against her mother's neck; it was still supple, but everything beneath the skin was still and quiet.


She had been prepared, yet unprepared; she had known this would happen, but now that it did...


"Goodbye, Mama," she whispered as she half-rose, licking her mother's muzzle and cheek a last time, before planting a kiss on her forehead. Blinking tears from her eyes she stepped into the den's entrance, turning to look back at the dead body of her mother a last time.


There was nothing there for her anymore.


She could smell Solas coming, and quickly slunk from the scene, not wanting to be trapped here with the pack. She felt empty and numb, the surroundings a dark blue blur and every sound blending together into a low, undistinguished drone. A howl, heavy with grief, sounded from somewhere behind her. She smelled Kajika, who hadn't been far. Tulip. And.. Neha.


In the distance, Lunette saw her estranged, deserter of a sister barrel towards the medicinal den, followed by the thick, heady scent of grief and panic. The younger Vuesain's eyes narrowed, but the anger normally burning so hot in her chest was muted, gone, lost along with everything else. Simply empty, the girl ended up standing by a small cluster of rocks, not quite seeing what was ahead of her, thinking only of how soft her mother's fur had been.