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THE GREAT FAREWELL

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Gandhi

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Even in the throes of worry and uncertainty, Erika could take the time to appreciate all that her parents had done for her, her siblings, and their great and venerable house. The Great was a fitting moniker for them both. All the Kortrevich siblings had much to live up to, even if all their parents had ever wanted for them was for them to be happy.

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"I wish my coz well. I know he will be a dobry Count. Just like his mamej and papej." Malcolm d'Arkent smiled warmly upon seeing Andrei's ascension. 

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With a glass of strong amber liquid to one side, Reinhard's hand graced over the missive. Despite everything, he still smiled softly. Beneath his feathers, his cheeks were tinted a dulled colour, quite the opposite of any usual person. "There. Vy will be ordak. Vy can see et now, can't vy?" And with that, there was a sense of completion. For in the end, that's all he wanted. It was a fulfillment, that something had worked out. Part of him was proud, for whatever pride he had left. 

His form slumped forward over the table he sat alone at, picking at his glass to raise in a cheer to none but himself the ghost of a friend. It was lowered to sip from as he continued to drown his mind in anything available. While his thoughts mellowed, not everything was tamed by what he used anymore. In a more prompt motion than his gradual slump, the smile wiped from his features. Clawed hands moved to hold his head, and quiet mutters began as he begged to be left alone.

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