You didn't even let me say farewell.
You left without even a whisper, a note, something.

Anything.

It stings. So soon after the other events, it stings.
So, I sit here. Thinking of how to remember you.

And there it is. Obvious and there all along.

The bracelet. The one from happier days.
It suffices. A matching one to yours so that I don't forget.
We may never speak again, but know you will be missed.

Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 17th of Variach, in the year 472 MA.