She stares at him in shock.

"I'm tired," she whispers, "I'm so tired."

And then she is leaning into him, embracing Death, before he pulls back.

"I know you are, Lana," he mutters in reply, "but you have to promise me you'll keep going."

He pauses, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You know what the best thing about dandelions is?"

She shakes her head.

"They keep growing, year after year, even if the sun stops shining, or the rain stops falling, they push through.

"I'm not a dandelion, though."

He chuckles.

"Of course you are, you're the girl with the dandelion soul."

Death places a small plant in her hand.

"Make a wish, Lana."

He presses a kiss to her forehead, and he is gone, leaving her at the edge of a cliff, with a small dandelion clenched in her palm.