Only one person didn’t.
Skarda sat on the rough wooden boards staring blankly at a leather wrapped bundle before him, carefully hung with charms and painted with runes (the mundane sort) all begging the favour of the gods and their mercy for a warrior died far from home. Skard looked remarkably peaceful, where his head could be see sticking out of the grave bundle, Skarda did as well but it was a frozen peace, one where nothing else could exist, no emotions, not even sadness, just emptiness remained.
Erika watched as, without a word, Skarda stood up and taking his brother corpse jumped down from the side of the slow-moving wagon and walked away across the wind-swept grass. For a moment the expeditionaries paused and watched him trudge away before they hurried off about Alvis’ tasks.
“Should we… do something?” Whispered Erika into Kara’s ear.
“No,” replied Sigurn from across the bay, Erika had noticed she was nursing a number of wounds from her battle with the meridian but hadn't asked Erika for healing, but as a Chosen she could heal herself better anyway Erika supposed. “It’s a nice idea Erika but he wouldn’t thank us for anything we could say or do.”
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“Losing a sibling and a battle-brother at once like that…” Sigurn managed a small smile. “It’s hard but he’ll recover in time… and only with time.”
Erika accepted that and sank back into Kara’s arms; her magic could heal practically any wound of the body but one of the mind? That was far beyond her power.
Alvis waited for a respectful moment then clapped his hands. “We don’t pay you lazy lot to stand around,” he bellowed. “Packs on droogs, food in pockets, get back to your wagons and relay the directives hurry hurry.”
Erika had finished her packing earlier, apparent from her looted valuables she’d left al her stuff in her wagon where it had sat undisturbed during the entire battle, all she’d needed to do was toss the sack in after they climbed back down. Kara had taken a bit longer but Erika hadn't minded waiting.
Even with all the loot, morale was low, sure seeing a pair of silvers fight a giant flesh blob monster was pretty awesome but you couldn’t eat awesome, and the insect-things had eaten most of the rations when they stormed the bank.
“If we ride hard, we can be in the Wold in two days and out in three!” Called Alvis, stood on the front of the cart as behind him delvers scrambled to climb back to their wagons. “Did anyone see which way Skarda went?”
Before anyone could reply Skarda stumbled back out of the wilderness, legs stained with grass and dirt and eyes red and raw. Without a glance around he walked back to his scorith and mounted it, staring straight ahead.
A few moments later the expedition was gone, leaving behind nothing but the echo of voices and a crudely made cairn.