Sharina quickly pulled out the knife hidden in her boots, the steel glinting under the moonlight. She didn't hesitate. The point of the blade struck her throat—
—but before it could pierce skin, something cracked against her hand.
Zukulum's staff.
The impact knocked the knife from Sharina's grip. Metal hit the ground with a dull thud, saving her life for another day she did not want.
"Leave me alone, Zukulum." Sharina tried to make it a command, but her voice broke, thin and defeated. It sounded more like begging than authority.
Zukulum stepped forward, gripping her staff tightly as if she feared Sharina might try again. "Killing yourself is not the answer," she said, voice stern but gentle.
"I have nothing more to live for, my children are all dead!" Sharina replied. The words fell out flat, empty, cold. Like the fire in her had been snuffed out all at once.
"Yes, you do," Zukulum argued softly. "The clan needs you. Now… more than ever."
