la lumière de la lune

There comes a time when one knows there is nothing left. It is a harsh reality, and one that comes on fast, with no warning. There’s no pretense, no prologue, only it itself in its entirety.

He knew this. He had done it before. Many times before. But the repetition didn’t make any of them easier, let alone this one.

His partner was dying. He felt it long before everyone else. That day, stretching back decades and seconds at the same time. He tried to recall the date, but couldn’t remember what it even was yesterday. Time had felt so fleeting and endless as he lay there curled around his partner, listening to the slow beeps of the monitor.

In theory, this was nothing new. The same room, the same state of being, the same painful waiting. But it was worse this time. It was no longer when, but if. If she would recover. If she would wake up. They tried it all—the senses, the aura, the illusions; the medicine, the healing, the comfort. But it was time. It was over. They just had to wait.

He reached deep into his soul, conjuring up that world again. It enveloped them. He could see her, standing there, wind catching strands of her hair. He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the forest around them, feeling the patterned sand underneath his feet. For the millionth time, she turned around.

For the first time, she actually looked him in the eye. He stood there, waiting for that moment where they would both walk towards each other, and he could hug her and feel safe again. But that moment didn’t come. He took another breath in, waiting for the sharp tang of the leaves, but it wasn’t there. It was hazy, and behind him he heard the whir of the portal, a persistent ring in the back of his head. The beeping was gone. He felt no hand touch his paw. He heard no whispering. His partner was still standing there, watching.

She moved forward ever so slightly. He tried to think of all the times he had gone through this, of him holding her, telling her that they were waiting. She had never been so hesitant. A stray leaf brushed against his nose. She moved forward again, inching closer, eyes growing weary. A gust of wind ruffled the fur on his neck. He finally took a step forward. The faintest noise crept past.

Finally, like they had practiced, they came together. She was so much warmer than the last time. He could feel her hands run through his mane, hear her breathing shift. The ring behind them grew louder. He held her close, trying to find that strong, kind heart he had felt all those years. The beat was soft, almost nothing compared to the deafening ring.

He felt both before their final beat, holding on to her warmth as the world caved in.