"Skeletal remains of humanoids and Coursers alike are a common sight on the Moor, but you’ve stumbled upon a pair of them in a strange pose. The human’s arms are wrapped around the Courser’s skull, their foreheads touching one another. How does this strike you?"

✦

Gauss moved silently through the thick mist of the Moor, his hooves pressing into the damp earth with practiced care. The air was still, heavy with the eerie weight that never left this place. Tyffyn’s chatter had quieted as they traveled deeper, the silence pressing even her boundless energy into something more subdued.

He stopped abruptly, his sharp eyes catching the strange arrangement of bones just ahead. “Wait,” he said, his voice low but commanding. Tyffyn halted beside him, her ears twitching as she followed his gaze.

In the center of the clearing, two skeletal figures lay intertwined. The larger, unmistakably a Courser, rested on its side, its skull tipped downward. The smaller, a humanoid, was draped over the Courser’s head, its arms wrapped tightly around the broad skull. Their foreheads touched as if locked in a moment of quiet intimacy that had persisted long after death.

“That’s…” Tyffyn began, her voice faltering. She took a hesitant step forward, her bright eyes wide. “That’s strange, right? That’s really strange.”

Gauss didn’t reply immediately. He stepped closer, his hooves careful not to disturb the ground around the remains. The mist clung to the bones, lending them an almost spectral quality. He studied the position of the skeletons, the way the humanoid’s fingers still curled around the Courser’s jaw, the hollow sockets of their eyes staring into one another.

“They knew each other,” he said finally, his tone heavy. 

Tyffyn’s tail flicked nervously. “It looks… like they were saying goodbye. Or like they couldn’t let go.”

Gauss’s ears flicked back as he straightened. “Maybe both.” He glanced at the humanoid’s skeletal frame, noting the jagged breaks in the ribs, the deep cracks along the Courser’s skull. “They didn’t die cleanly. Whatever happened, they stayed together until the end.”

Tyffyn shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around the mist-shrouded clearing. “You think they’re… still... here? Like, watching us?”

“Does it matter?” Gauss asked sharply, his voice cutting through the stillness. He looked back at the remains, his expression unreadable. “They’re part of the Moor now. Just like everything else that dies here.”

Tyffyn’s ears drooped slightly, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she stepped closer to the remains, her usual cheerfulness replaced with quiet reverence. “It’s sad, though. They must have meant so much to each other.”

Gauss huffed softly, turning away from the scene. “Meaning doesn’t change the ending.” He started walking again, his pace steady and unyielding. “Come on. We’ve wasted enough time.”

Tyffyn lingered for a moment, her gaze lingering on the strange embrace of the bones. She sighed softly, then trotted after Gauss, the mist swallowing the scene behind them.