the silence after . a xiola srp tw: death and grief the forest should have burned with her. every tree, every breath of wind; it should’ve gone up in smoke the moment Aiko stopped breathing. instead, it’s all still here. mocking me. pretending nothing’s changed. i hate it. i hate the sound of the leaves, the stillness, the smell of damp earth that won’t wash her away. everything about this place is soaked in her ghost, and I can’t kill it no matter how hard I try. aiko, sweet, soft, breakable aiko. she smiled like the world deserved kindness. i told her once that kindness would be the death of her. guess I was right. thats a first. she died choking on her own breath, and I just sat there, waiting for her to stop shaking. i didn’t cry. i couldn’t. there’s no use in tears, they don’t fix what’s rotted. atropa would’ve laughed at me for even staying. said I should’ve left her body for the crows. maybe I should have. maybe I should’ve left both of them to the forest. now, there’s no one left to tell me what to do. no orders, no warmth, no lies about “family” or “faith.” just me, the dirt, and the echo of her voice when I can’t sleep. i don’t talk to her. i don’t pray. i don’t believe in ghosts. but when the wind hits just right, that low, breathy hum through the trees, it sounds like her humming. the same stupid tune she’d use to drown out the screams at night. and I feel my claws dig into the ground before I even notice. because she’s gone, and I’m still here. It’s not fair. but nothing ever was. so I spit on the earth and keep walking. If the forest wants to sing, it can sing to itself. I’m done listening. .. so now xiola is alone, with both atropa and aiko dead. her only family and her whole word gone. the grief and sudden freedom is consuming him, any interaction from now on you can expect a completely different feline.
