The Alterans and the mobile refugees took a moment to gather the corpses and give them a proper burial. As always, they burned their corpses until they turned to ashes, dedicating moments of silence in prayer for their souls.
They solemnly watched the bodies slowly return to the earth, their hearts heavy.
Althea held her husband's hand, resting her head on his shoulder. He held hers, rubbing it comfortingly.
Her husband's warmth never failed to calm her down—to make her feel that things were going to get better soon—that these problems were temporary.
After some time, Althea felt her shirt being tugged. She looked down and saw a pitiful-looking girl looking up at her, eyes lined with tears. She was biting her lips and looked a little intimidated as if fighting herself whether or not to bother her at this time.
It was Lily.
"Lily?" she blinked. "What's wrong?"
Her words of concern seemed to have triggered the held-back tears.
