TW: death
It is a quiet, invisible thing. You only know it in hindsight.
Not all among your number have been very communicative -- each of you have a different sort of thought and style, of course, and some have always been quiet. But not like this.
Not all among your number are still here.
Becoming quiet or withdrawn. Silent. Sleeping... then gone. Your incomplete senses lose them entirely, unable to see or feel the shell-that-once-was-theirs, having no scrap to mourn. It is painless.
Mother makes a difficult decision. Some of her eggs are no longer viable -- they suffered too much bodily harm during the quake, or their minds were overwhelmed by the Weyr’s panic, or perhaps they never would have made it to hatching even in a more peaceful world. Gwillanth singles out the ones that will not hatch, dead shells, and Pertemarth carries them between.
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Do you realize that some of your companions are gone before or after Gwillanth singles them out? How do you react -- with sadness, interest, superiority, fear? Do you take any steps with your other companions to warn or commiserate? Do you attempt to check each other for the signs, or are you more worried about yourself? Do you care about some of your companions more than others, and why or why not? How do you conceptualize or feel about this?
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NPCs Rocranth/Sun’s Honor and Ghrebieth/Eggnog may be used for this prompt.