I enter the hut, holding in my hand my bloody portion of my passed mate. I sit down, hardly noticing my old friend following me and closing the veil behind him. Now, as we are alone here, each similarly burdened, I allow the tears to come.
Of course we had never had the luxury of even a semi-certain future, a violent ending to one of our lives being not very unlikely. Still, I couldn't have helped coming to rely on him being there, listening to and comforting me when needed, expecting the same from me, thus giving me a measure of personal purpose in life. Indeed, we had come to need, as well as love, one another. His needs, of course, are a thing of the past now, but not mine. That will have to change.
As I close my eyes, I rummage through the deepest reaches of my mind, reliving my most precious moments with him over and over again, peeling the significance, the importance of the memories slowly away in the process. Oblivious to the passing of time I delve deeper and deeper, until there's nothing left that hasn't been stripped of value, no memory unscathed.
Now calm and resolute, I open my tearless eyes, seeing the cold heart before me. Slowly I shift to a form more suitable for my feast, and firmly make my silent assertion to myself.
I will go on. Trust, yes. Rely on, no. Need, never again.