I'll Be In Your Heart, Littlefoot

Somehow, when his mother's familiar falcon found him, Arcturus knew in his gut that it was time. He already knew about his mother's steep decline and how unwell she had been. He had tried to spend time with her where he could and help her as much as she would allow, but he had admittedly gotten swept up in the changes and heartbreak in his own life and lost sight of just how imminent the end might be. He wasn't ready, but he didn't know if he ever would be. He dropped the hide he was working on tanning and loped across Obscura's lands to where he was directed, finding Asla's frail form on a sun baked rock by the falls.

He slowed to a stop beside her and dipped his head to press his forehead gently into her shoulder, his gray-dipped ears folding back. Even now, with as thin and frail as she was, it was impossible for him to accept that she was anything but the ferocious, indomitable woman that had taken care of him and Tira on her own for so long. She had felt so larger than life in his mind for all of his life that the thought of saying goodbye felt preposterous. He settled down beside her as they waited for Tira to reach them, tipping his head to smooth down the fur on the top of her head like she had done for him when his mane was still just a mess of fluffy fur, fighting back the heavy lump in his throat.

"Arcturus Indarra"