It's oddly quiet in the Forest. No birds chirping, no squirrels scurrying. Even the Crying Idol seems less vocal than usual, the flow of water sounding numb, distant.

The Snowflake is resting by a special Tree, her body still weak; she would tell everyone that her strength was coming back - which was true - but only partially. Her back legs still shake lightly, and she curls tighter, feeling a chill along her body.

She feels a small body sit beside her, and she raises her head to see a familiar Muntjac, Poppies adorning her tiny antlers. The white doe smiles lightly.

Hey.

Hey.

The Muntjac's tone is quiet, low. It's the voice of a lost child, who had wandered too far away for too far long; only to find that the world has changed. And she's not quite ready to accept it.

They sit in silence for the longest time, the Snowflake sleeping, shifting occasionally. The Muntjac simply stares into the distance, her mind not thinking, not processing.

Here, at this tree, was the haunt of someone whom had played a large part in both of their lives; one as a close and endearing friend, the other as a mother of all things.

Mie remembers the first meeting; she skirted past the large Spider Queen through the Ruins, coming back occasionally, curiosity roused, but not quite ready for a full confrontation. The Queen seemed to take an interest in the little deer, and their bond was quick and true. She had become a mother to Mie, and Mie held fast and loyal, her tiny body tucked under the larger doe's torso.

Even when she was around less and less, she felt that bond pull at her.

She only wishes she could have stayed more, longer.

Lacie remembers the Queen's constant game of trying to sit on her, claim her; Lacie, of course, stubbornly "fought" back, their game often becoming noisy, borderline ridiculous.

She remembered watching over the Queen while she gave birth, only to witness the death of one, and ponder the death of the other.

She remembered simply sitting and sleeping with her, safe, comfortable. She was perfectly happy, perfectly content enjoying the quiet times.

And now?

Both girls find themselves thinking the same thing, essentially seeing, feeling the same thing.

This Tree is empty.

Jorogumo is not here.

Jorogumo has gone.

Jorogumo would never grace them again with her presence.

And that hurt.