'HE WAS SO YOUNG!'
Loushka chuckled and it rumbled through me.
'Well, the youngest of the group. He did everything the older boys did, determined not to weaken the team. They didn't know he cried himself to sleep the first few nights, he was so sore from the training.'
'Brave boy,' I thought while watching Loushka's memories and shifted closer, burrowing into her thick mane that shielded me from the biting wind.
The lanky, scrawny youth in the griffon's memories was instantly recognizable; his mop of black hair constantly falling into the overlarge navy eyes which were dwarfed by thick black brows. Such a gawky looking thing, I thought and couldn't help giggling, tears flowing.
The contradicting emotions, joy of seeing him so real and alive, and so young! Then grief at knowing what became of this determined teen I watched via Loushka's memories, felt exhausting, but I loved to watch him.
'Oh god, Loushka. I don't know how I'm going to live without him.'