Marion had been placed at the counter of the pawn shop during the funeral procession. She made note to visit the grave site later in the day, but for now she had a duty to watch over things from raiders and looters alike. It wasn't an unlikely thought for The Forgotten to be kicked while they were down, so despite their grieving they had to remain strong.

Her dark brown eyes were sunken, tired. A blank expression plastered on the usual cheerful girl's lips. Sounds of sobbing, and gasps of breath from several children could be heard scattered around the compound. It was enough to make even the hardest soul feel compassion. Mari hadn't lost anyone close to her, but everyone in The Forgotten was still like family, blood by choice.

Suddenly from the store front a man came into view, Marion's stubby fingers gripped the side of the counter top watching as the renowned 'Wandering Priest' came into view and placed a cross on the ground in front of the building. Mari's eyes gazed up to the ceiling, knowing Shiba had been on watch for the same shift as her and hoping he was holding up alright. She knew he was tough, and probably drowning his sorrows in liquor rather than the alternative. 

The man walked away as quickly as he came. 

Mari's grip around the counter edge loosened and slipped onto a more relaxed position on her thighs. 

It would be a very long day.