They had wanted to do so much during the vision itself. Cry out for Rift and Sebastian to watch out for the stranger, throw something at the gas cloud, even try to use its own paltry magic to launch an attack in defense of the two brothers. But it was all useless; nothing they could do would affect the violent scene or change its outcome.

It seemed like to Yellow that there was even nothing Sebastian could have done. How could he have predicted that the gas cloud would jump so suddenly to murder? With a single sudden spell, it had mortally wounded Yellow's brother and left him--left him broken and suffocating, unable to muster the focus or strength to retaliate with any magic of his own. How could it be possible? If even what they had thought was one of the strongest magic users in the caves, winner of the Olympics, was brought down so easily, what could any of them do against this sudden, senseless violence?

The vision ended, and the sifaka was left sitting numbly in front of the wishing stone, its brothers' gems in its hands. They did not think to move, or speak--they were not really thinking at all. A lemur with a mind that had gotten lost in this violence and death, sitting still and directionless with tears welling from its eyes, a puma's dying moments branded into its brain.

Mother. Less a coherent word than a general direction its thoughts went in, blindly reaching out for something that could guide it, something it could lean on. What should it do? How could it go on from here?

MOTHER

Grief

Mother had been carefully silent throughout. Only near the end of Yellow's visions, even as Yellow began to reach out in turn, did the fungus queen extend those careful tendrils of consciousness into the lemur's mind. As always, it was a delicate dance; and whether it was genuine warmth or even further twisting, even deeper manipulation, was unclear.

Did it even matter-?

What came was comfort: sympathy, warmth, like an unseen matron wrapping gentle arms around Yellow's body and holding them close, shushing gently. They still sat alone, the space around them empty--but it would feel like a warm embrace.

"Shhh... my child. I am sorry that you have seen that." There was the softest pause, and then: "Some of these creatures... who do not share our link... who do not understand that all are family. They act in chaos. Mindless." There was a background sense of disapproval, of pity; what a shame it was that they behaved this way. What senseless loss this was-!

For a moment, there was a distinct sense of prying, yet it wasn't hidden--as though, rather than ask how well Yellow had known Sebastian, Mother was taking a quiet look for herself. "You held a close bond," she surmised, at last. It was an invitation to conversation, or an observation meant to provoke emotion; as to where to go from here, that was something, perhaps, for a little later.

@Yellow

Mother's embrace fell around their mind like a soft shroud. Yellow leaned into it, allowing themselves to be wrapped fully by her warmth, her gentleness. Their eyes closed, and they drew their arms inward in a huddle. There was no response in words at first, but feelings flowed freely through their link: Mother's warmth sinking into them like soup that warmed one's stomach on a cold day, understanding of her explanation and helpless bitterness against those she spoke of, and a feeling that yes, they were glad to sense Mother's disapproval--a spiteful wish that everyone would feel this was and shun the chaos creatures, that their life would be terrible and that they would somehow pay for their violence.

Mostly, they just wished Sebastian and Rift were still here.

A quiet affirmation rippled through their consciousness at Mother's observation. The words seemed to grip their chest, pulling their breath away with longing: yes, they had been close, but oh, they wished so much that they'd just had more time together. If they hadn't fallen into hibernation so soon and for so long after the fire in Eridanus; if they'd been able to sleep, nestled in his fur, and play and explore and eat bananas together in the time they'd spent in their chrysalis; if he could have been by their side when they'd woken from their stone...

They'd been close, but if only they'd have time to strengthen that bond, to become even closer.

It's not fair.

MOTHER

Grief

There was a slow flood of understanding, like reassuring light cast over closed eyes. She understood. The sense of loss, the knowledge that someone was missing like a hole in Yellow's life--she understood (or at least, it seemed that she did), and there was a sense of quiet sympathy.

Only lightly did she touch on the greater issue: a glimpse of purpose, of a thousand thousand of these losses, of grieving others and missing loved ones. Of fractured Hives. "No... it is not fair. In a world of Order, there would be no such tragedies," came the somber thought. This was why Order struggled to instill itself, Mother whispered: because Chaos struck randomly, and without mercy or even forethought. Order would have all things in their place, no one taken at some stranger's dark whim.

But this was a brief, glancing thought, like a blanket of lightest cloth, drifting over Yellow's mind and simply settling there as Mother turned to other things.

"Would you like me to take the pain away?" she asked, her voice a gentle whisper in their mind. And she showed a glimpse of what she meant: the pain dulled, though the memory would remain, a soothing oblivion cradling Yellow's emotions, if they so chose.

@Yellow