He knew immediately; he had seen the look too often on his enemies' faces not to recognize it now.
There was no cinematic ending, no time for final words or choked sentiments, or even a web of emotion spun into a last significant look. There was only time for the firm grasp of a paw while he stared into eyes already misted over, already unseeing as his child tipped from the razor's edge of life into hollow stillness.
Splinter bowed his head. My son, even in this you would lead us.