It certainly is beautiful to watch, though. Bram cuts through the air the way sharks swim through the sea, every bit of energy seemingly devoted to his mobility, his speed. At least until he arches, throwing his head back. Even at this distance, I hear his cry and feel an answering twinge in my chest. I don’t need to see the white edged with pale blue pulsing from his body to know that he’s experiencing grief on a level most people can only dream of. I hate that I know that feeling. I hate even more that I empathize with it. He sounds like he’s the last person living in the entire world and he
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