to lose all we found

Usually, she pushes through the ghosts with little heed to them; not interacting with her, doing their own thing, and her doing her own thing as well. This time.... was different. This was the first time a ghostie caught her eye, and her eyes were drawn to the slowly moving, drifting purply-ghost in the Orchard. Almost no ghost paused here; so why was this one? And yet... something tickled her memory. A description. This ghost - ever since the eternal night - was as thick and substantial as the others, but something drew her eyes to... her. Flashes of purple and black met in a confusing pattern depending on how the light shifted and how bright it was at the moment; black that was there in the darkness and less light shifted to a violet sheen when the bright light of the fog shifted directly on her... much... like her own fur. And her dad's fur. And this was a female. And, she squinted closely, she had a white circle patch over her eye.

"...Cascade?" she asked, awe and excitement and trepidation in her tone. Cascade Saxe? "...Grandma?" This tone was a little more hesitant, but still there; the hope in it so obvious. The - as Chaos put it - the founder of her line, the partner to h er very much still loving and grumpy grandfather, the woman who passed down her name to her son, and from her son... to her. Of the three Saxes remaining - though apparently there might be more according to... a half-sibling - and a woman she had heard stories of growing up, though she didn't get to meet Cascade herself.

No. Fucking. Way.

Slowly, she approached, restraining herself as much as possible, but she couldn't help the slowly moving and then faster and faster moving tail wag as recognition made her excited and delighted, almost like a pup again. She was going to meet her grandma! No way! Maybe some good came out of this disease after all.

"Speech" "You"