Oleander could only stare as everything before him unfolded. Then, when it was time for them to move, he watched as his father lifted Sephrina's lifeless body. She draped over Viorel as if she had been a part of him. Two souls cut from the same cloth. Clover's white-furred son could not have felt more estranged. Perhaps he was more like his mother than he realized... He tucked the thought away for later.
The funeral procession was underway and Oleander followed after Clover. Then, as they stopped, he moved forward, eyes darting from one adult to another. Without a word, his paws clawed at the earth and he dug. He said nothing and acknowledged no one. When the hole in the earth was large enough to cradle Sephrina's dark form, he was muddy and unkempt. Bits of forest debris, clay, and soil clung to him, and he held in his mouth a piece of stubborn root that he had ripped up.
He might as well have been burying his littermates, his sisters who left him without so much as a goodbye. His glossy eyes focused on Viorel, then on Clover and Uncle Vayko. He trembled, harboring no energy left to even nod or bow. All he could do was take his leave. They could lay her to rest and say their goodbyes, but his part of it all was done. He needed to be alone.
OLEANDER | |
Nobody gets me like you do I'm not the same, not after you |