Laurani knelt next to her faithful companion of many years - one hand rubbing lightly at the soft, warm fur behind one large ear. The other hand tangled in the longer, silver fur of the wolf's body. Sticky, crimson liquid seeped from a long, jagged gash along the furry abdomen, pooling on the dry, dead grass of the clearing.

Trees surrounded them, dead, leafless branches reaching over them, tearing the dull winter sky, but not daring to intrude on the small patch of ground the pair occupied.

Large, pain-filled yellow eyes stared up into concerned grey, the pulse under the elf's hand growing fainter with every breath her companion took. There was a desperate pleading in the yellow eyes now, as blood formed a large puddle around them, staining Laurani's brown leather leggings dark. 

The bow slung over her shoulder felt incredibly heavy as she forced herself to draw away from her companion - her friend - and stand.

Slowly, with hot, salty tears gathering in her almond shaped eyes, she drew the weapon from her back and took an arrow from the quiver at her hip, readying it, taking aim as the tears finally began to slide down her face, leaving clear trails of pale skin beneath the dirt and grime of the forest and blurring her vision. 

She released the arrow towards Shaalei's throat, exhaling a breath - closer to a sob - with it.

The bow was quickly discarded as she fell to her knees once more, throwing herself over the still-warm body of her closest friend, sobbing into the matted silver fur... despite the silent thanks in the lifeless amber eyes.

For the first time, Laurani was truly alone...

Laurani buried Shaalei in a large clearing they had frequently visited over their many years together, a clear, gurgling stream twining through the centre - a favourite hunting ground as well as a hideout. Following the Elven tradition, Laurani planted a sapling over her companion's heart, tears once again staining the pale, drawn face.

She plucked at a thin, woven band around her neck, a whistle, made from the tooth of the spirit wolf himself, hung uselessly from it. The loud, high pitched note had been a call to Shaalei... a call that would not - and could not - be answered ever again.

Sitting in vigil beside the grave, Laurani refused company, food and water, never sleeping...only waiting.

The nights passed one by one, and the young elf grew frail and ill. Hair that once a glistening brown, falling in waves to her elbows, was now lank and unkempt as it draped over thin shoulders. Yet still, she permitted no-one close enough to help her and never did she smile. Laurani remained perfectly still, sat as she was beside the grave, until, on the twelfth day of her vigil, her companion materialized before her, the familiar yellow eyes shining in the dark, winter midnight as the silver fur shone in the light of a waning moon.

Laurani's body was found at dawn the next day, by a member of her clan sent to check on her. Her friends and family buried her where her vigil had finally ended; a content smile firmly set upon her lips.

Years passed, and the two saplings over the graves grew tall and strong, the trunks and branches twining together, inseparable just as Laurani and Shaalei had been in life, and were still in death. The elves carved words into the bark of the trunks, close to the ground. 

'Shaalei, 

                  A companion, a friend, a guide to the spirit realm'

'Laurani,

                Died of a broken heart, to be reunited with her soul and guided home'

And it was left at that.