Diamonds are beautiful, but they are also stronger than anyone can anticipate.

I was taught this in school, but I relearn it as I watch my best friend bleed out in my arms.

The arrowhead was aimed at me. Its purpose was to end my life slowly, painfully. Cara took my place is one foul swoop, giving the perpetrator a bullet to the brain with her revolver before letting herself be punctured. The wooden shaft protrudes from of her chest, like a flag of victory planted after war.

“Take my weapons, Moira,” Cara croaks, forcing her shoulder to shrug of her pack. She hisses with the painful strain, and when I try to stop her, she weakly smacks me away. “The map too.”

Even in incapacitation, she keeps the momentum of our plan to secure a safe hideout moving. She ignores the arrow, ignores the blood seeping onto the forest floor. I’ve never been angrier about her relentlessness. “Cara, please talk about anything else,” I beg. “Anything but reality!”

“Like unicorns and mermaids?” She attempts to laugh, but blood fills her throat, trickles down her pink lips. “Is that what you want?”

My own laughter is unavoidable. In that small slot of time, I forget Cara is slowly leaving this world. “I love you.” I murmur.

“I love you too.” She croakes again. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

Cara forces the muscles of her eyes to widen, prolonging her life for as long as she can. When she sees my tears, she wipes them away, painting my cheek with blood from her fingertips. I lean down and press my lips against her forehead, the last act of affection I give before there she has no strength left and she goes lifeless. Every adversary we faced was nothing to her, but the circle of life, that invisible enemy, took her before she had the chance to fight.

In seconds, she goes cold. So does the wind as it picks up, a force strengthening every second. Mother Nature mourns her too.