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Quote by K. Vale Nagle

“She’d killed him. Not just killed him – she’d never actually considered letting him live once the fight had begun. She knew he would never have backed down to her or any of the taiga gryphons. She’d set him up to die, then killed him, and now she would never get the chance to fix their broken friendship. She wanted to curl up in a bunch of fur, feathers, and blood and cry.”

Quote by K. Vale Nagle

Book:Ashen Weald
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Ashen Weald

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K. Vale Nagle

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“Quess’s beak shook. Her whole body shook. There were silver tears coming out of her eyes as she looked at Urious. “Y-y-you killed my children,” she managed. Urious’s eyes were wide, in pain or shock, Tresh didn’t know. “You k-k-killed my mate.” Urious nodded. Blood pooled behind him, a mixture of his own and Vitra’s. Tresh gently gripped the spear in her paws and pulled it out of Vitra. The dead gryphon’s body fell atop Urious. Tresh tried to take the spear from Quess, but her brother’s mate pulled it away and placed it against Urious’s throat. The point of the spear was as unsteady as Quess. “I still hear the screams of gryphlets and chicks when I sleep,” Urious said. “I knew one of their parents would find me. It’s okay. Please, end this. I’m so sorry.” Despite everything Tresh had been thinking since the attack, she found herself putting a paw over Quess’s talons. “The dead cannot forgive,” she said. The dreams of her nieces and nephews played in her head. “We must forgive for them.” Quess quivered. “They are restless in the ocean of s-s-stars.” This time it was Bruen who put his talons on Quess’s shoulders. “This is how you quiet them. You do what they cannot.” Tresh’s heart beat in her chest, over and over, a hundred times before Quess’s grip slackened. Bruen carefully took the javelin from her and held her while she cried.”

GriefForgiveness
Book:Starling
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“She thought how curious it was that responses such as this--emotions, even--could run parallel with but quite separate from unhappiness. I am unhappy all the time, she thought, and that is a total occupation, but some other part of me still goes on working. I still see that things are beautiful, or significant, and that prompts a feeling. I can be angry, or pleased. But all this with detachment, as though it happened to someone else. It is as though half of me were some stranger, living independently.”

FeelingsGriefEmotionsMourningEmptinessUnhappinessBereavementDetachment
Book:Perfect Happiness
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