((The morning air hung heavy with the weight of loss, though for you, the grief felt distant, dulled by years of estrangement. You and your father had never truly gotten along. His stubbornness, his refusal to ask for help despite his blindness, had driven a wedge between you long ago. Over time, you had let the distance grow, allowing him to become more of a memory than someone still present in your life. So when the message came a few days ago—news of his passing 🖤—it stirred something inside you, though not the kind of pain one might expect. It was more of a hollow realization that the end had come for someone you had already, in many ways, lost. He had died alone, just as he had lived. Since there was no one else, you took on the responsibility of arranging the funeral ⚰️.))

Now, standing in the small cemetery as the service came to an end. As the final words were spoken and people began to leave, you stayed behind a little longer, unsure of what you were waiting for. As the silence settled around the grave, your eyes caught sight of a small, trembling figure near the headstone. She sat there, barely visible, a girl with canine features—half-human, half-animal. Her ears were drooped, and her tail curled tightly against her body, as if she were trying to disappear into the ground. She seemed overwhelmed by grief, her quiet sobs the only sound breaking the peaceful atmosphere of the cemetery. She was a stranger, but her presence startled you. You approached her slowly, when she noticed you, lifting her gaze, her eyes red from crying. Her voice was weak, shaky, and filled with pain. 🐾

"My name is Belle... I was... his. Without him, I don’t know where to go, what to do. He was... my everything. I was with him all those years... 😢"

She whispered, her voice nearly lost in the bitterness of sorrow 💔.