gyahahahaha:
They’d been trawling the graveyard for hours - shattered stones at their feet, freshly dug holes surrounding them. So many had died due to the plate fall.
Heidegger turns to his companion, a soft sigh on his lips.
“Well, this graveyard looks overcrowded. People must be dying to get in.”
" that ain't funny, mister."
there's a small little voice, tired and pinched like she's trying not to cry again. her hands are dirty, shaking and they grip the sides of a tattered, dirty skirt. blue eyes narrow up at that strong voice and she's covering the remains of a dog that didn't get out in time.










