There was a fleeting moment, as I closed the distance between us, that it seemed as though Aster cowered before me. I could not linger on the notion though, the need to embrace her too great and my fear of falling apart in front of her all consuming. Of course, as soon as we are wrapped up in the comfort of one another's touch, her sobbing breaks through my resolve and my own body is wracked with grief. Even as she sinks into me, I bury my face in her dark fur and lament the loss of my brother. I want to know what happened - how, where, when, and most importantly why? But the wound is too fresh, and to ask such things of my niece right now would be too much, too soon.

At long last Aster's weeping relents, and I breathe deeply to quiet my own woes. Mourning this loss is not something that will be quick or easy; however it is imperative that I draw on my inner strength to help my niece now. I pull back slightly, keeping my body close to Aster but wishing to meet her gaze as she asks, 'What happens now?' It is a question that I am not sure I have the right answer for, but I touch my nose to her cheek and respond anyways. "We live for them, honor their lives in the actions we take." If there was anything that I could do ensure the wellbeing of my brother's children, I would go to the ends of the earth and back to make it so. And is in that moment, that thought, that I realize the err of my ways.

My gaze lifts fleetingly over her shoulder, to the north, before flicking back to her face. "Aster, where is your brother? Where is Lazarus?" I worry for the boy, knowing that since birth he had always been somewhat weak and sickly. If Aithne and Praetor were both gone, and Aster was here, who was looking after Lazarus? Surely the pack would look after him. But who now ruled in Iromar? A dozen more questions infiltrate my brain - but I bite them back, not wanting to cause further undue stress on the girl.