Through the Fire and the Flame we Carry On

There wasn’t much anyone could do for the slate titan, words were worth only so much. Affection was a comfort, but it didn’t come any closer to returning the dead to life. There was nothing to be done, they’d done everything possible the day he had been born. He was never meant to be. Though the fact was the truth Rhyme still struggled to come to terms. Epitaph did what he could though.

The former slave offered his own quiet words of comfort. Maybe someday he would be able to more easily carry the sense of loss that iked to hang about him. Time heals all wounds, but he’d never be able to forget the tiny hole the pup had left in his heart. Rhyme looked over to the forest eyed wolf, his gaze distant as he spoke from personal experience how hard the task was. How easy it was to be swallowed. If Rhyme didn’t have his surviving offspring how easy would it have been to start drinking and never stop?

Epitaph’s feeling were ill concealed as Rhyme shifted his gaze over to the man that could have been his half brother. ”Sometimes I wish I could be swallowed.” To give up the responsibilities that hung over his shoulders like a mantle. To forget about the sorrows that lingered in this life. ”But I do have children, who need a functioning father.” What good would he do them passed out drunk most days? ”I love them too much to fall.” He put his paw back onto the grave as he pushed gently against the thin framed man affectionately. A silent promise left him, vowing that he would do everything he could to pave the way for a bright future for them.