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Sometimes: she clutches her chest, or places her fingertips over her temples, or runs her fingers down the sides of her thighs, right where Kosh used to touch her with his light trueform grasp. After he dies, she tries every night to search for a fragment, some lost fluttering hope that he can be built back up with anything beyond mere memory. She remains mourning. She opens her mouth like she used to when she exhaled him, when she was blessed enough to hold him and be held.
She misses him every day. An eternal, unfixable gash along her flesh.