Sierra, Evan, and their friends remember Ellena days after she dies.
The next day, Evan and the others came over for dinner. Afterwards, in the sitting room, they started talking about Ellena. Her infectious laugh, her high-pitched sneezes. They spoke about gifts they could send her family. Sierra would try to put something into the conversation, but every time she tried to speak, her throat tightened up and she had to blink away tears. She finally quietly excused herself and walked into the corridor. As soon as she closed the door, she let out a sob. She covered her mouth, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Adrian’s wife had had such a painful, horrible death. What if Ellena had died that way? Sierra imagined her crying and moaning and bleeding. She leaned against the wall.
The door opened, and she tried to wipe her face. Evan came into the corridor. After closing the door, he embraced her. She allowed herself to cry into his chest. Ellena would never see day again, never breathe again, never have children. She was gone, along with countless other lives. And it was only the beginning. The Avialies would die, and there would be no one to replace them.
~Fire and Light, the second prequel novella
I thought of other eulogies, but this is the least spoiler-y.