How empty the den would be, I think. It had always housed a large family. Now it would be like walking into a ghost room; I would expect to see the white face of my mother, the black of my father, the wild grin of my brother, and the rambunctious play of my three sisters. All I would see would be empty dirt walls and a small girl at my side. Well, small was a relative term - it stuck in my head that she was small but she was not. Feather had grown to weigh quite a bit more than a feather and was fast gaining ground on my own size. Little Samia, Hadrian called me, and it was a fitting name. I was not the size of a runt but I would never be burly and large. Slender and small - it comforted me so I mulled these terms over and over in my head as I said my goodbyes to my siblings and cousins, their haggard faces etched into my mind. Tiamat had decided to stay and she was one so who was I to tell her what to do? Medea as well, although it stung me that she wouldn't return with me either for she was a quiet girl and I had never imagined her wanting to wander like Tiamat, who was fiery and half-wild.

Feather would never leave me, I thought. She was my closest companion, my dearest sister, and as we left for Glorall I made sure to often press my nose into the crown of her head or her scruff, breathing in the fresh scent of her. "I love you, Feather," I would say softly, blinking slowly, almost owlishly so that I could fight back the sadness in me. For her I would stand tall and strong. Brave - be brave. Mother and father had taught me a bit of what bravery was and I had learned from others too, countless hours watching and learning and trying.

It is a relief to hit the borders of Glorall because I know we are both tired. Sleep hadn't come to me after finding my parents and we had all coordinated for their funeral and sung our paeans until our voices were hoarse. We had commiserated - all of us except Ankh, because she had left and the Constantine after her. I would check on her later, I decided, because I had to face the reality of an empty den. It was still cold when we arrived at the clearing before our den. "Feather, are you alright? Hungry, tired?" I am concerned about her, my sad little sister, and I am not only her sister anymore but her parent, her guardian, and I will ensure that she is well kept.