Not in Name, But in Heart

Before her very eyes, Satira watched the fog draw closer to her, yet she felt no fear from it. It took shape, forming into a wolf and transforming gradually into the golden-furred sire of her brother. Naiche stood proudly before her, as real as if she was looking at him any of the times he had come to visit them. Tira's breath caught in a gasp, pale blue eyes peering up at the man she knew to be dead. Yet here he was! He spoke her name, and the familiarity of his voice hit her heart like a sucker punch. Then he said how he wished she'd been his and placed a lick upon one flopped over ear. Even his touch felt real! But how was this possible? Where was she? There could be only one logical explanation...

"Naiche," she began, looking up at him with worried eyes. "Am... Am I dead too?" She couldn't be dead yet; she still had so much life left to live! She couldn't leave her brother behind too, or her mother and father! But then, how else could she be seeing him right now? Naiche was dead, so if she was seeing him, she had to be dead too, right? Another question raised in her mind, and Tira took a trepidatious step toward the ghost of her brother's father. "Did you really wish that? Why?"

"Satira Fatalis"