((Anyone is free to reply)) The trembling fist beginning to splinter wood. His flute violently shaking in his hand. Nothing felt this bad before, nothing. He had a horrid feeling a twang of pain shooting through him. Today was no day of memories but of something else. Something was wrong......so wrong and he didn't know what. CRACK! The flute shattered pieces falling and splinters embedded in his palm for he wore no gloves, but that pain was nothing. It was natural........more natural then this. Chest pounding with a dire clutch to his chest. It seemed as if all was ending in his mind and body, but he was not dead. NO for em there was no cold and gentle embrace he was going to suffer through it.

Face a stark white as his feet stumbled so precisely in a collapse. His body was failing him at such a young age. Shaky hands gripping into the grass. Ven was in the glen and feeling like he was going to die. A cough as he felt a warm liquid spill out. Finger raising to his lips in a secondary cough as the crimson elixer spilt out and sprayed the ground. He was dying and there seemed nothing could save him from it more coughs shattered any sense of silence and eyes heavy as vision faltered hearing dull. No longer conscious from the pain of his weak heart. The young man was dying and he had no flute to play his final song and waiting for death.