There was no denying that death was waiting for Aslatiel Indarra. No denying it at all. The blonde fae was skin and bones, her fur was like straw, her nose was dry and her pads were cracked. She'd made Duchess promise to take care of Indigo. The last order of business was to call her children to her and spend what time she had left with them. It would be difficult for both, but she would rather say goodbye than just wander off and die in the wilderness alone. She knew that her children would likely want that closure as well. Asla sent her falcon to fetch both Arcturus and Satira. While she waited, the emaciated fae settled upon a sun warmed rock at the top of the falls. Galactic eyes stared down at the glimmering water as it danced from one rocky ledge to the next. It was a beautiful place. Fitting that it should be where her story ended. Goodbyes had already been given to both of her leopard companions. It had been difficult to convince them that they didn't need to stay by her side. In the end, they gave in to her wishes, though there had been many tears from both sides. She loved both leopards and her falcon too. With a word to the bird, a tear fell from its eye before it took to the skies, calling its goodbye into the heavens in one final, raucous cry. "Speech"

Somehow, when his mother's familiar falcon found him, Arcturus knew in his gut that it was time. He already knew about his mother's steep decline and how unwell she had been. He had tried to spend time with her where he could and help her as much as she would allow, but he had admittedly gotten swept up in the changes and heartbreak in his own life and lost sight of just how imminent the end might be. He wasn't ready, but he didn't know if he ever would be. He dropped the hide he was working on tanning and loped across Obscura's lands to where he was directed, finding Asla's frail form on a sun baked rock by the falls.

He slowed to a stop beside her and dipped his head to press his forehead gently into her shoulder, his gray-dipped ears folding back. Even now, with as thin and frail as she was, it was impossible for him to accept that she was anything but the ferocious, indomitable woman that had taken care of him and Tira on her own for so long. She had felt so larger than life in his mind for all of his life that the thought of saying goodbye felt preposterous. He settled down beside her as they waited for Tira to reach them, tipping his head to smooth down the fur on the top of her head like she had done for him when his mane was still just a mess of fluffy fur, fighting back the heavy lump in his throat.

"Arcturus Indarra"

Satira had been dreading this day for seasons. Ever since the day she'd seen her mother tumble after the raid, she'd known what was coming. No matter how much she wished it could be different or how much time and effort she put into trying to find a way to reverse the sickness that was degenerating Aslatiel, deep down in her logical healer's brain Tira knew the truth. Asla's falcon had found the little wolf-dog girl out gathering herbs from the nearby rivers. Its presence was like the arrival of the angel of death. Tira dropped her basket of herbs and abandoned it on the riverbank, rushing back home to grab her medic satchel. The weight inside the bag felt like an anchor around her neck, knowing what it was and dreading what would come next. Satira had brewed the decoction specifically to help her mother pass if she couldn't save her. She'd never given up hope that she could somehow cure her mother's illness—but if she couldn't, she refused to let Asla die anything less than a proud and dignified death.

The walk to join Asla was emotionally grueling. Each step felt like wading through quicksand. Satira's mind still refused to acknowledge what it was now being forced to accept. It was only once she saw her mother lying there, basking in the spring sun with her brother there that it really hit her like a gut punch. Steel blue eyes took in the view of her mother one last time. She looked like a withered form of the strong and amazing woman Tira had known her to be. The woman that had led a pack, had steered their family through uncertain waters, who had always been there for her no matter what and encouraged her to love herself, mixed heritage and all. And now she was going to lose her. She'd never get to have those girl talks with her when she and Cináed were mated, never have those nervous chats as Satira prepared to start her own family and make Asla a grandmother, never reflect on how their little family would grow.

Tira was far less composed than Arcturus was when she approached, crystalline tears already welling up in big blue eyes. She padded slowly over to Asla's other side, sandwiching their mother between her and her brother. Her throat felt tight with emotion, her chest aching with the pain of what was about to happen. She gathered up her strength and looked into her mother's purple eyes, trying to put on a brave smile as she choked out, "Hi Mom." Pretending like this wasn't going to be the last time she ever said those words.

"Satira"