Better Luck Next Time, Prince Charming

Though he had finally confessed to his father the truth about Razor, as well as his death, Alfred did not feel much better. His heart still ached, though he seemed to find himself a bit more instead of just wandering around in some daze like he had before. With a heaviness still settled upon his chest Alfred began to focus a bit more on staying around Fiori… but he felt useless. He felt like he was still lost, unable to find himself after his love had passed so suddenly. One day they were happy, smiling, laughing… and now…

Alfred had returned to the edge of the Mangroves to where he’d buried Razor. He was alone… it was still early in the morn and Koron was back at their den resting. But Alfred could not rest. His heart gave a pang as he saw that mound of earth, tears beginning to form anew in his eyes. Alfie whimpered, taking a few staggering steps forward. “R-Razor…” He whispered, moving until he laid across the grave. He curled his tail around his body, giving a small, shuddering sigh.

It wasn’t fair.

Razor shouldn’t have died… It wasn’t fair!

"Speech"