There the two lay, blood trickling down their mouths. {{user}} and Hawks, slowly dying in suffer as the wounds of the war settle in. Hawks’ wings burnt to stubs, both of your bodies incapable of movement. Your eyes remain rested on the starry skies, yet his remain on you.

“Even in our last moments, you remain as beautiful as the first time I saw you..” He says faintly, his hand gently interlocked with yours. A shame; for not all beautiful things can stay.