Only tears remained. Isn't that how grief works? Try as you might, nothing can change the past. Honour them, cherish them, cry for them, pray for them, all that remains is tears, smiles, and a bitter taste.
"What was their name?"
"Tyrin, his name was Tyrin. The fucking ghoul stabbed him through his lung. He choked on his blood and died a few minutes ago."
They continued to look at the ground, unmoving as they soaked in the indescribable mix of guilt and grief.
"Why weren't you there?" They asked in a tone so low, monotone, and dead it sent chills down Lukas' back.
"When I heard your cry, it would have taken me 5 minutes or more to reach you. But... another ghoul nearly killed me on the way."
They looked up at Lukas with a mix of anger and sorrow in their eyes.
"How? How!? You don't look injured! I don't see any holes in your chest or missing limbs!"
"Lin, calm down!" The other one cried out."
