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There's a sense of peace in dying slowly. Something Goff had never thought possible. But as the days go on and there’s no more food for her, calmness settles over her. Her wings lose their shine, and her legs can barely hold her weight, but she's calmer than she's been in long time.
Her end draws nearer each day, but she finally gets it. She understands why Murn refused to side with them. The choice to save the earth, was not for the butterflies to make. It was up to the humans, and their decisions would either doom or save their home.
It was the same choice the butterflies’d had long ago when they'd still had a planet. At first glance it seemed the humans were doomed to make the same mistake Goff's people had. But seeing Christopher, Goff hoped that she was wrong.
Despite the blood on his hands, his near crippling guilt, and the way he skirted the edges of madness by talking to his dead father, there was something good in him.
A soul, humans called it, their inner rin-les-ka, their guiding light. After observing Peacemaker’s soul, all rough edges and unbearable warmth. Goff came to a decision, she was dying, that was undeniable. But she still had choice, she chose not to let him see her die.
In the middle of the night she flew out his window, the symbol for peace drawn with red ink on the inner side of his shield. Her body too weak to scratch the metal the way she’d done to the glass jar he'd held her in.
Taking flight on paper thin wings, she headed east. Eagly flying alongside her, turning back at the first rays of sunrise. Her flight was long and hard, and towards the end, it was nothing more than a tumble. Her body at the mercy of the earth's winds. The gust of wind keeping her afloat lost steam while she was floating over a manor. She smacked right into a glass building, and being too weak to remove herself, she slid down. Her descent creating the most undignified noise she'd ever heard.
Her legs(all six of them), tired and weaker than they've ever been, carry her into the little building and she staggers her way to one of the flowers, leaning against its stem. Outside a storm is brewing, and she'd rather go out warm and dry. At this rate a raindrop could bash her brains in. She's made peace with dying from starvation, she doesn't want to be pummelled to death.
A man rushes in just as the storm starts and Goff's eyes track him. He's covered in bandages, not a single bit of skin on display. He's too far to notice her, but Goff doesn’t mind. As far as final memories go, it's not so bad. He hums as he works, his voice low and soothing. One by one he checks the plants, and when he comes to her flower there's a startled gasp, his watering can clattering as he backs away.
Goff regards him with blurry eyes, her vision already tunnelling.
“Just a butterfly, just a butterfly, not Red Jack, come on Larry, get it together,”
He was scared of butterflies, but he obviously didn't know what she was given the way he was chiding himself. What other butterflies had he seen?
Interest piqued by his reaction, she tried to stand, but all she could manage was single wing twitch, the movement feeling like she'd just lifted a whole cow. Gloved hands gently picked her up, careful not to crush her, and Goff was reminded of Christopher. Placing her on a bench, the man left, coming back seconds later with the flower of an aloe plant in his hand.
“There you go buddy, this should help,” He put the flower next to Goff and went back to watering his plants. Yet another human showing kindness Goff had long thought extinct in the human race.
He leaves her there, going about his work, the nectar flowing out of the flower and slowly making its way towards her prone form. Somewhere to her right, there's a faint blue glow. It dances over her wings, and for the first time in a long, she's warm.
The nectar reaches her mouth then, and driven by instinct, her tongue darts out. When the first sip hits, she does an involuntary full body shudder. Her senses overwhelmed.
Her second sip is slower, more wary, perhaps she'd imagined it. But just as with the first sip, the second one still tastes the same…absolutely divine.
Food.
The Earth improbable as it might seem, has an alternative food source for her kind. She laps up more of the liquid, her strength returning to her with each mouthful. Once she's sated, she flutters her wings taking in her surroundings with a clear vision. Every single plant in the greenhouse is one she knows. They'd tested all of these and none of them had been a viable source of nutrition. But now that she's had a taste of the nectar she's realizing that every single plant around her smells the same, so all of them are a possible food source…how?
The man, Larry, comes into her field of vision then, and for the first time she notices the way the flora perks up as he passes. It's nothing too overt, easy enough for a human to dismiss but Goff stares in wonder at the way the plants react to Larry. Leaves flutter as he passes, flowers opening, stems twisting in a bid to track the man's movements.
Maybe it's not the plants that are the miracle here, maybe it's…Her train of thought is cut off when Larry starts to glow, and the same warmth she'd felt earlier floods her, oh.
It is him, he's it, there's still hope for her species.
Overcome by an emotion she can't name, she launches herself at him. She flies under the flailing arms trying to ward her off. What would have ended in an embarrassing display of her nuzzling his face, is thwarted by him dodging at the last second and heading straight for the door.
Face against the glass, Goff watches him run across the grounds, his coat flapping wildly behind him.
When Larry Trainor disappears into the house, it feels like watching the sunset, and for once, Goff isn't upset. Tomorrow Larry will step outside and Goff's sun will rise again.