faust is gone.

vanished into the night like breath in chilled air, swallowed up by the earth. no farewell, no final glance. only the sharp stillness that followed, oppressive and crushing.

kaelith stands beneath swaying black branches as morning welcomes midday, silver fur haloed by the lazy shine of sun through trees. seafoam eyes turn skyward, not searching, nor hoping for an answer. only watching. he does this often. watches. quiet things, little things. the thrum of birds' wings against the bloody morning sky, the orderly march of ants over earth and stone and wayward paw. they soothe him in a way words have never been able to do.

he wants to be angry. wishes he could be. there is a part of him, a shallow echo, that remembers just how fury feels. hot and fierce and bright. it doesn't so much as flicker now. there is no room in him for it, no corner of his body untouched by the icy fingers of grief. and the truth...it settles hard and certain in the hollow behind his ribs, where his heart reluctantly beats.

faust is not coming back. he is gone and no amount of searching will return him home.

dead, perhaps, though kaelith cannot bear to say it aloud. even thinking it is betrayal, sacrilege.

maybe his brother sleeps now, at the bottom of some nameless cliff, caressed by beak of vulture and crow. maybe he fell over the edge in silence, the sky his only witness. or perhaps he simply went to sleep, the earth cradling him like her own lost babe, as if she too loved him enough to keep him close.

yes. he is alone now.

entirely, utterly alone. and not in the loud, wailing way others seem to feel it. his solitude, a quiet thing. it was meant to be.

his gaze drifts downward, a ritual older even than him, to the ants at his feet. tireless little soldiers. their world is so small, so complete. void of grief. kae wonders, not for the first time, what it might be like to live without the weight of consciousness.

when he lifts his head, there is a woman at his feet. he is not sure how long he has wandered, nor why she stares forward with such baleful eyes.

"hello." voice soft as sweetgrass. a pause, a beat. "are you lost, too?"