[Orual]

Ravion sat on the floor by the fire, drawing his cloak around him despite the warmth of the cottage. He felt like he had an iron weight on his heart, and that would take more than a lovely shapeshifter to lift. While Marigold was an unexpected occurance, he did not feel uneasy around her. He trusted her, and did not worry for his safety or the safety of any of his companions. He wondered if he was not going just a bit insane.

He looked over at Aeron, who was huddled in a chair. His eyes were downcast, and alarmingly dull. Ravion did not suppose that Aeron was seeing anything around him: perhaps he was seeing Gwyllion. At that thought he glanced at Marigold, and wondered why she had wanted Gwyllion's body. He had seen no harm in it, but thought it odd. Perhaps, though, she could help them give Gwyllion a proper burial. Maybe that would lighten Aeron's heart some. A proper burial was a proper good-bye, and it would fulfill his duty as her brother.

But it would not bring her back, and it would not take away the sorrow.

Ravion stood slowly, feeling very old all of a sudden, and walked over to Aeron. Reaching the boy's chair, he sat again on the ground, and did not look at him. He kept his eyes on the ground. "You should eat something," he said quietly.

Aeron kept silent.

"You have been through much. Suffered much. Your body is as weak as your spirit feels now. If you do not eat, you will fall ill, and I do not fancy carrying you everywhere. You are no light load."

Ravion's attempt at levity was met with stony silence. The Ranger sighed heavily. "Aeron, I am sorry for your loss. I know that it does not help, but I am sorry. Deeply sorry. I mourn with you, and though I cannot comprehend your grief, in whatever small way I can I share it with you."