where it all began

Though she was no longer capable of the more extreme emotions that had plagued her in life - in death there was no mania, no rage, no anguish - still she was disturbed by the prospect of Aryn leaving Veigar to fend for himself. He was nearly a yearling now though, not a helpless pup who needed supervision, especially with the strange state of the world currently. "He will not hate you, not unless you don't return to him, eventually. I understand if you're afraid - you've always been afraid," Eyrun mused softly. She'd grown stronger in her company but it was no surprise at all that she was still a fearful one, just like the scared wolf Eyrun remembered running into the first time they'd met. "But you can't be afraid forever, especially not when you're all he has left of me." If she was the pleading type she would be down at her paws begging for her to return to Veigar, but especially now everything felt like it was slipping away from her. "I'm sorry I left you, too," she nearly whispered after a moment of quiet. She'd grown to care for the meek woman in a way she hadn't anticipated and it was only in the afterlife that she realized just how much she'd cared for her, but it was too late to lament over that thought now. Already she felt herself fading; she was sure her time here was already beginning to run out. She just hoped her words had helped Aryn even in the slightest of ways.