This world is designed to change. Any who deny it are those that need to be changed. It is simple, really. Easy. Understandable. So why, then, do they mourn for the sake of mourning? Heyel's death is little more than an inevitable part of him having ever been born. He was bound to die. Did they think they could hold onto that part of themselves forever? I cannot fathom it. I do not wish to. Change occurs and it is always best to be on the end enforcing the change, after all.

I do not expect any other to approach me here. I revel in the silence of it all. I am sure Moladion sees this location as some kind of bad land now, tainted by the timely death of the old man. It is why the sound of paw steps, as quiet as they may have been, rouses me from my rest. I do not move, however, and my ears remain relaxed atop my head. For all intents and purposes, it may very well appear as if I am asleep, a bare slither of an eye emerging from my eyelids. I watch his smaller form move through the grass. Black and white. Unusually marked. He lacks the thick ravine scent or any for that matter, though the slightest familiarity clings to his aroma. I do not think I will forget that female any time soon, for we had taken to the mold that was Devil May Cry together. She is somewhere on him, perhaps, but I continue to ignore him.

It is only when he speaks that my eyes slowly peel open. They open already locked onto him, and a low growl rises in my throat as I slowly rise before him. He calls Heyel for what he was and yet, I must be suspicious of him. After all, it is a statement not spoken lightly. It is neither accusation or speculation - he speaks with a knowing. I continue to stare into him for several short moments, my throat continuing to resonate with a sound of warning. If he comes to say such things so flippantly, then perhaps he ought to go without a tongue. However, he does not run. He does not seem to tremor. He is not here to throw me to Heyel's brood - or so it seems.

"And yet weakness continues to fester."

I narrow my eyes towards him, silent in thought but for a moment before I continue.

"Such is the nature of an infection."

It is within an instant then that I move forward. A few well placed, short steps brings me within a mere foot or so of him; I approach him directly, lurching forward until our noses are almost pressed against one another. I breathe in his warmth. I breathe in every part of him as I stare down into his eyes.

"What did you see?"