The procession for their deceased was a long ceremony and it was going to last through the night.
The angelic voice of younger generations of elves resonated in the atmosphere as they rendered a graciously pleased composition in honour of the dead.
A requiem as melodious as it was sorrowful, reaching beyond the confines of their mortal realm and carrying along with it their love and longing to the divine realm of the spirits of the forest.
It was both a prayer and a song for a grand welcoming of their beloved on the other side.
Every note that went forth from your lips resonated with memories of Valore's bravery, his laughter in the face of danger and his unwavering loyalty to his kind.
Same could be said for the other wooden beds that surrounded Valore's.
Each one belonged to an elf that had tragically passed in Brunt's invasion of their village.
