She lay down, under the stars, hoping against hope to see his face there. But it wasn't, she could tell that in an instant. It never was. He was gone. She was going to find him. The grass was soft against her, as much a comfort as a curse. Laying there, splayed out on the grass, it was hard to think of the End... but she must. For him. He was lost without her, as she him. The metal of the blade was cool against her skin, cold comfort in the warm, silent night. This little moon held no crickets, so even that familiar, comforting sound was lost to her. Still, it was all for the best. For everyone. And... for them. She barely felt the soft tingle as the knife slit across her wrist, and as she slowly, oh so slowly, emptied herself onto the green, green grass. She was strong. For a moment, she was ashamed of herself for letting her morals slip so far. But she pushed it aside. No more would she hide in the shadows, behind a mask of hard and cold. She was a soldier, but a wife first and foremost. A wife who could only grieve so much before she broke. And Zoe qwas as broken as the bodies River had left in that room. They should have died there. So she was just returning the favor. She opened up herself to the night, and sighed happily as she died. She was coming home again. And, at last, on that small, insignifigant moon, they two were one, one last time under the stars.