Bless the spirit of our dead

Petra had been suffering the usual nightmares and flashbacks of her painful start in life, where she was disfigured and almost killed by the very demons that threatened with bring Judila down, yet with these last survivors escaping, Judila wasn't fully gone. The spark of their people was still alive, an spark that was now theirs to keep alive.

Yet death was still around, and to her beloved brother it had reached. She had been feeling empty, and that old sensation of failure was lingering deeply in her chest and soul.

She had hunted a doe, wanting to bring food for the funeral and to use it as her own offering to her departed sibling. Dragging it with her she arrived, finding Oath and Fairytale already there. Pain dug in her heart by the expressions of sadness in their faces. Her own expression cracking, her remaining eye tearing up as she placed her offering there in a flat rock.

"Petra Morningstar"