Surely this all a dream...Right? No...Dreams are good. Good. This must be a nightmare...
This is all that ran through Azalea's head as she looked down to the body of her best friend, cradled in her arms. Sadly, the corpse didn't look like a sleeping baby; It and the plant-girl herself were splattered with a thick, golden, almost sap-like blood as was common among Sylvari and Fern Hound alike.
The sap had since dried. Perilla the hound had been dead for nearly a day. And Azalea was no closer to accecptance.
In fact, Azalea had yet to put the dog down. She couldn't put the dog down, The Sylvari didn't want to wake her pooch.
"You need to stop rolling around in those bushes. That's quite a scratch." The girl commented to the corpse. But it had in fact been more than a scratch. Azalea knew this; she had seen the knife, heard the scream...Cried the tears. "Come, let's go find you a nice patch of grass to rest in, we'll go for another walk tomorrow." The grief stricken plant suggested as the 'two' walked back to the make-shift camp for the night.