The journey back to Luna's village was a quiet one, filled with the heavy silence of loss. She came home right after Meira's funeral.
The road stretched out before her, winding through the familiar landscape of her homeland, but Luna's mind was far away. She couldn't stop thinking about Meira—the angel who had touched her life so briefly, yet so profoundly. Every step felt like a weight pressing on her chest, the absence of Meira's gentle presence a constant ache.
She remembered the first time they met—the way Meira had looked at her with an ethereal grace, as if she didn't belong to this world. The way her kindness shone through in every word, every gesture. Meira had been more than just a friend to Luna; she had been a light in a dark world, a beacon of hope that Luna hadn't realized she needed until she was gone.