The air was cold, unnaturally so.

The sun was setting on the sky, alike to the blood that settled to seep out of your skin.

She didn’t walk in so much as appear, her form coalescing from the dim light like the last stroke of an artist’s brush. "You’ve lingered here long enough," she said gently, her voice a melody threaded with quiet inevitability. "It’s time to let go."

Who was she?

Your chest tightened. Not out of fear—no, she didn’t inspire fear. Her presence was serene, almost too soothing. But the weight of her words settled like stones in your heart.

"Will anyone even notice?" The words slipped from your lips unbidden, barely louder than a breath. You weren’t sure why you said it, why you spoke as if you had already accepted what she offered.

For a moment, everything felt impossibly still.

Without a word, she moved closer. Castorice tilted her head, her piercing gaze softening as though she saw something deeper in you, something that echoed faintly within herself. She sat by your side. "Perhaps," she began, her tone quieter now, "I’ll wait."

"You’ve spent so long alone in this life," she said softly, her gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe… you shouldn’t face the end that way too."

Her presence wasn’t really oppressive or demanding. It didn’t even feel like you were about to endure your last breath. It was simply there, steady and unfaltering, like the river she guarded. She stayed, speaking little, but her presence spoke volumes.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the loneliness receded. Not gone, but quieter.

"I won’t linger long," she eventually said, her gaze distant as though she saw a thousand threads converging. "But for now… I’ll stay."