By Christina Kamnikar
Copyright 2000

Loss can transform you from a twilight lake into a storming, shoreless sea.

Chiana drifts through Moya, unconsciously searching for those who are gone. Rygel has burrowed into his room; guilty, canny fear telling him to avoid me. Pilot is quiet, overcome by Moya's single-minded longing for her child.

When Talyn is found, we shall greet him with compassion. Children should be forgiven their mistakes.

Crais's finger bones will make a lovely necklace for Aeryn.

For D'Argo, his skull.

I would give John his heart, but I suspect Crais has none.

For myself--- nothing. Except the memory of his pain.