“Hm. I can’t say I blame her- I’ve seen things like this happen, and for those who get left behind, it can be… bad. I know she’s a strong bird but…” he gave a nervous, tinny sort of laugh. “I suppose I’m not doing a good job of being comforting, am I?”
“It’s okay. You have to comfort her, not me.” She sighed, “To be honest, I don’t think anyone in the family expected her chick to live as long as it did. It was always sickly and rather weak. Daria didn’t see it that way, of course. To her, her chick was as healthy as could be, all the time. I wonder now if it wasn’t a coping mechanism, that she realized it was just not destined to thrive.”
Daria rose from her seat. She could hear her mother and Bart talking, but not what they were saying. She wasn’t focused on them, anyways. She crossed to the bier and sat on the edge of the raised table, reaching out and touching her chick’s face gently, stroking the soft skin and adjusting a stray lock of hair that had been jostled out of place by being moved around. She pressed the hand not touching her chick to her own face, trying to hide the tears welling up.
Daria’s mother watched her daughter then said, “I should be with her. The rest of the family should be arriving soon, and I know she doesn’t want them to see her like this.” She left Bart’s side and walked up to Daria, gently guiding her back to her seat, murmuring to her the whole time.
Bart had allowed Jacob to drive the hearse, while he "rested his eyes" on the way to the preserve. When the hooded crow finally put the vehicle in park Bart felt almost functional again.
By the time the mourners arrived, he had everything ready to go, and sent the interns on their way- Tired as he was, he wasn't about to turn this into some sort of spectacle.
He rubbed his eyes and glanced around the trees. Only an hour or so at most was left to this funeral. There was only one more hump to go over.