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"I haven't talked to Amphitrite in weeks," Chrysocolla choked out, and her voice hitched on almost every syllable like it was a struggle to even say them. "I can't help her and she's my sister, Cinnabar, Kerberos left and if you're gone the only person I have is Schorl and I can't -" she sobbed like it would strangle her left unsaid, but it was strangling her anyway to put the words out in the open.

Schorl wasn't the person you went to for kindness and comfort; Chrysocolla knew this, had known this from the moment she'd seen the General on the battlefield. She'd left Sylvite behind with her transfer, had fallen out of contact with Bayldonite, had cut ties with Faustite, and Umber had been nowhere to be found for months (not that she wanted to see him for any good reasons, but it was still a connection, no matter how negative). With Cinnabar lost - she would almost be alone, again - no, not again. More alone than she'd ever been, in the Negaverse.

But Cinnabar straightened up and turned away, and Chrysocolla tucked all her fear back away inside a little box and wished the hand on her face had lingered longer, and swallowed her tears down because she couldn't afford to have those go free.