The funeral was everything but grand.
Reynard stood between his parents' graves and stared up at the sky.
"What are you doing, still?" Rosa asked, tapping on his shoulder from behind him. "The men left long ago. So should we. We'll come back here tomorrow."
"I know," Reynard muttered lifelessly, his eyes still searching the vast blue sky. "You head out. I'll join you in a moment."
Rosa shrugged. "Alright, then. I'll be waiting."
Reynard heard the crunching of dry leaves as she weaved her way through the many graves, and the metallic creak of the hinge of the gate that led to the outside. The cemetery was surrounded by a tall black fence with pointy tips, one an amateur grave robber could never climb. It was greased every night to stop someone from getting over it, since grave robberies were quite common in the area.
