Daisy knew when it was time to leave Veti be, which was just as well, because she was still watching the Wight. She couldn't help but play his words over and over in her mind, and yet there was nothing more she could do to understand them. 

But she did. 

It was not a simple understanding, not a basic translational knowledge that made the word 'muerte' into 'death', or 'lost' into 'égaré'. This was an inherent knowledge, at the very least, the way a baby learned to smile, or a bird to fly. Which was strange, of course, because there was nothing inherent to Death but inevitability, and hadn't his presence already refuted that?

Artie stayed at Veti's side, silent and unmoving as the proverbial guard dog he had never really been. But Daisy was already crossing the grassy field again, her gaze never once breaking from the Wight's pale face. She got halfway there, then turned around and went back to her mourning friend, one hand resting between wide set ears -- as close to a voluntary hug as Daisy would ever get. 

"I'm coming back," she said evenly. "I...I have something I need to do first..." She glanced over her shoulder at the Wight again, and her face clouded, half confused, half terrified. Then she shook herself and turned back to the wolf. "But I'll be back." Then, as serious and solemn as she'd ever been. "Okay, Veti? Understand that -- I am coming back. I promise."

--

[i]*One Year Later*[/i]

She'd asked for her name, and after a while, he'd given it. It hadn't been an easy process. Daisy had, despite her promise, disappeared for weeks after their first breakthrough -- and that was just weeks in real time. It was far longer in the strange Nowhere she could access now. It certainly wasn't life, but then it wasn't quite Death, either. 

Death had been different, at least for Daisy, ever since Max and Kata had wiped her slate clean. She'd taken, at the very least, a year-long hiatus from the shenanigans B&H were pulling, even without Atticus and co. Besides, and Veti eventually showed her, staying put wasn't all that bad. She'd never liked kids, per se. But puppies were something else entirely. And that -- something else entirely -- was the same phrase she'd have used to sum up her life, and her death, and everything in between, everything she'd learned from Semyone's stories, mixing old legend and new superstition, and a whole plethora of things only Wikipedia could claim to be true. 

In the end, she took what was left and made just that -- something else entirely. 

For the moment, she'd promised to meet Veti and Wolfman Boss for dinner. Mostly, though, she was going to play with the twins. Artie absolutely adored them, and she worried sometimes that he was going soft. Also, that they were neither puppies, nor his. But Veti didn't seem to mind, so neither did she.

Her lupine friend had asked only once what she did on all those trips with Semyon, polite as ever, never more than a light touch. 

Daisy shrugged. "I told him he had something that belonged to me."

At the quizzical look, the young maybe-Reaper had smiled. 

"He knew my name. My [i]real[/i] name." The creature with the pink-haired visage made a face and tucked her arms behind her head on Artie's furry flank, laughing as Bitty-Aislinn licked her face. 

"Lucky for you," she'd said to no one in particular, "'Daisy' makes a better Twitter handle."