She had always been small, from the start she had been a tiny thing. Born of a petite mother and kept small through careful control of her caloric intake. Hunger had always been part of her reality and it was no different now. There was even less of her, yet the hunger was even greater. She lay in the shadow side of a bit of rubble and hurt. The protective coating of god-blood had burned off long before anyone had been able to help, the aid of the others had let her endure, but it wasn’t enough to stave off the considerable damage she’d taken. It was only the god-blood she’d consumed that let her continue existing, at least for a little while longer. 

She sighed in the shadows that had become her second nature in the short time she’d possessed the piece of eight. She didn’t know what would become of it now, but she supposed she was beyond caring. The world could deal with it, the world which apparently still existed would have to figure something out. She was just so tired. She stared up at the lightening sky, dawn was coming. A time of beginnings, and for this little bit of char and hurt, likely an end. Stupid silly day birds began to sing as they started to wake. Unaware that while they slept their world nearly ended. The deep indigo of approaching dawn was light enough that it made her eyes water. Not tears, she wouldn’t cry. She blinked and the scorched, raw flesh of her eyelids protested the movement but it was just one of a myriad pains. Not even worth a moment’s notice. 

She was small, she had always been small but her friend’s they were big. Large in all senses. Large in purpose and in destiny and she was proud to be their friend, even if she never managed to be a good one. She would never have to see Veti will herself to death over Max. She would never have to watch feel the sting of Atticus’ drifting attention again. But then she would miss so much. She would miss drinking with Veti, dancing with her, the display intended to foster jealousy and admiration in either the crowd or in a certain individual. Regardless of the reasons, it had been fun. Such a dance had been one of the things that there her in Veti’s path, before she’d even been turned. The way their two bodies moving together in such concert, hers with skill, Veti’s with feral grace made certain that any eyes that watched were pulled to them like eyes to a flame. She would miss seeing the way Max’s eyes lit onto Veti and burned. She would miss the terrible, unspeakable and delicious things she and Atticus had done to each other in their short association most of all. She would never had the chance to know him outside of those things, outside the role of being her boss. She would never get to spend time with him when the world was not at stake and it could be just her and just him. 

Nothing was truly eternal, not really. Not a god-wolf and not a tiny little thing burned to a crisp, just so much rubble in a field of it.

The stupid day birds kept up their waking song, nothing as majestic has Henry’s work but it fit the moment, heralding a change, marking the start of a new day. She wondered how many who would see this day would understand how lucky they were to have it? Probably not many, it was best that way. 

But then the stupid birds were joined by a new sound and it chased away even the thin veneer of peace and tranquility she’d managed to cast over her moment. Atticus, calling her name, the pain and panic in his voice a terrible thing to hear. She could not remain silent in the face of such pain. There would be no easy gentle slipping away, not for her. Shit. 

She pulled air into her singed lungs, just enough to push out a weak reply.

“Atticus. I am here.” 

She managed to lift a hand, the delicate fingers were but blackened flesh upon bone but they moved, if not without considerable pain.