[Obi-Wan's losses dwarf his own. But Vyng has had pieces of himself cut away too. His mother. His identity. His home. Cozy memories of baking strudel with his father, grated to shreds against the cold, distant man he became.

Thankfully, Vyng still has other bonds to keep him grounded. To the beasts. The flora. The elements. Eternal, yet always changing and shifting. For better or for worse, he stopped relying on people for spiritual connection after his mother's murder. But Obi-Wan's spirit was interwoven with a rich community that loved and accepted him with open arms. Now those threads — all of them — are snapped...and it was done with the swift brutality of a crocodile's jaws clamping around its prey's neck.

Vyng tightens his grasp around Obi-Wan's shoulders, warm and protective. His gaze, meanwhile, remains fixed on the door up ahead.]



We'll stay focused on the present, then — on the things we can still change, while we grieve for the things we can't. And we'll move forward. Together. One foot at a time.