He hadn't even stopped to leave a frantic message on that journal. Heard only the start of it before he was on his feet, tearing down the halls to the room he knew, to the number he knew so well. What he wouldn't give for it to be a lie.
Out of breath, he rounds the final corner, eyes already finding a few others lingering here as he slows at the doorway, peering inside. What he sees hits him like an icy wind, and his entire being seizes up. This was...it...
He walks into the room, glancing at the faces of the few who were already there, all wearing the same grim, torn expressions. Without even thinking about it, he's walked to the youngest there, a silver hedgehog he knew vaguely from the journals, and places his hand on his shoulder. This was probably something he's never seen before, the hawk realises, watching those tears trail down ashen cheeks.
"...nothing we could've done," he breathes, turning his eyes back to the lifeless girl again.