Walk | Talk | Think
Oh gods, what had happened to her son? His shoulder, his face... He looked a god awful mess, so ragged and battered that she could only assume the worst had taken place in the living world she was now barred from. And so she did. He's gone. My poor boy's gone. Tears spilled over as Tahlia saw her son's expression shift from surprised to overwhelmed in a matter of seconds, and even that was enough to confirm the stricken mother's fears. Surely that was why he cried, because he knew he was gone from the living world and would now be confined here. It was not a fate she would have wished on her children at their age - not until they were old and ready to depart - and seeing him crumble, the boy who was typically so stable and quiet, made her heart ache more strongly.
"Oh, Jakart," she said yet again, his name broken by a sob as he rushed toward her and fell against her chest, wrapping her up within his forelegs. Crying in earnest with him now, Tahlia lifted a foreleg to curl around his shoulders, holding him to her as she curved her neck over and around his. She nuzzled into his neck, his shoulder - where he lacked fresh scars - so distraught to think that he had lost out on so much life but still so selfishly happy to hold him. "My son, my wonderful boy," she muttered, her words mumbled and still barely audible as she continued to cry. It was unfair. It was all unfair that he had to lose his life to be here, that the first chance she got to see him was not through a beautiful dreamed visit as it has been with Anais but through his death.
"I'm sorry, Jakart," she whispered through her tears to him, unable to think of any other words to say that would matter enough in that moment, "I'm so sorry."
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