2024-07-03 - Them, and Almost Me As Well

Neath hadn't really noticed Pycgloith's death in the moment. Not really. Pycgloith had been there one moment and gone the next. A the time all it had known was that it was just a little more give in its mental limits, protection no longer needed that it could distribute across the rest of the clutch. It had almost been a relief.

It remained... Not unaware, but not quite aware either of Pycgloith's death in the aftermath of the quake. It wasn't quite aware of anything at that point. It had drifted in its shell, tethered only loosely to Mother and barely aware of anything at all in the while after. It hadn't thought of much, but it hadn't been resting either. It's strange to look back upon it now. It almost feels like trying to look back on the time when it hadn't known it was - there is nothing to remember and nothing to comprehend. It simply existed, just barely at points. Sometimes it thinks Pycgloith's absence was the only thing that saved it from fading away entirely.

Fading away much the same way Rocranth and Ghrebieth had was a scary idea. It had only become aware of their loss later, once it had crawled its own way back into its shell and found them gone. They'd just... Left, not snuffed out the way Pycgloith had been but slowly withering down in the aftermath until nothing was left. It hopes desperately that they'd felt the way it had during that process, that it hadn't hurt or been frightening or unpleasant.

It hopes, with just as much fervour and love and sadness, that it had done all it could for them.