It's so stupid; they've had a memorial for him already, a big public one in Whitestone and then a smaller heavier one in the remains of Greyskull Keep, eulogized him, toasted to him, bought him a drink every round they had that night, sitting untouched at the corner of the table as they muddled through grief-drunkennness with fond memories and choking farewells.

They've done all that, and it's staring at a wonky braid and crumpled feather in the mirror that makes the worst kind of tears burn in Vex's eyes, because Vax is gone and she'll never hear him say, "Come here, Stubby," before taking her hair in his hands and deftly fixing whatever it is she'd messed up, never feel the familiar comfort of pressing her back up against him to remind herself that not everything was taken away from her the day Bryoden burned.

She pulls her hair out of the lumpy braid, and just leaves it simply tied back, instead.