They cannot be sure, is the thing. Even now, they cannot really, truly be sure. The promise of clear water by the end, that vision interspersed in their head - they cannot know, not for certain, if that was the jackal god's doing or little more than a fever-addled vision from a dying soul, who so desperately wished that it all meant something.

They could comfort her with that. Could they?

How could they, when they cannot even know that for certain?

unknown