The long hours in the infirmary listening to Sina's strained breathing, knowing with every gasp and cough a little more of his friend's light went out; how their once-lively conversations had become more and more one-sided, until it was simply him telling her of the doings of the bees and the forest, hoping she could still hear him the while. (He'd had the chance to say everything he'd wanted to before she was gone. Would he have it again?)
He sets the tattered bit of bread back on the plate, dusts crumbs from his fingers, stretches a hand out in the direction of her voice. "It is," he agrees, "after everything else--it's too much. It isn't fair."
Life isn't, he knows, but knowing with his head doesn't keep the cry of his heart out of his voice. It isn't fair, to have their prayers answered only for Simon to die.
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The long hours in the infirmary listening to Sina's strained breathing, knowing with every gasp and cough a little more of his friend's light went out; how their once-lively conversations had become more and more one-sided, until it was simply him telling her of the doings of the bees and the forest, hoping she could still hear him the while. (He'd had the chance to say everything he'd wanted to before she was gone. Would he have it again?)
He sets the tattered bit of bread back on the plate, dusts crumbs from his fingers, stretches a hand out in the direction of her voice. "It is," he agrees, "after everything else--it's too much. It isn't fair."
Life isn't, he knows, but knowing with his head doesn't keep the cry of his heart out of his voice. It isn't fair, to have their prayers answered only for Simon to die.