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[h3]⛼ O7 - Public Square ⛼[/h3][/center]
It slowly became apparent to the small group that the city, however it may be, had a dearth of graveyards. The sheer mass of humanity was impressive enough, taking Lethe aback a good deal, and doubtless however the dead were sorted through would likewise take him aback. A sinking feeling came to the gravekeep’s heart, though, at the prospect that how the dead were dealt with - and how their stories were kept or lost - would be a desecration of the dead, of the duties entrusted, and that he may be starting from scratch and alone in the city. 

As they moved through the streets, it also became known that the streets were not entirely welcoming to those it didn’t know. The gravekeep could see the hungry eyes here and there, men and women who had a certain method about them and knew how to shake loose coin from another, though they seemed to yet have eyes. He was almost glad they had, though the emptiness there wasn’t such a great comfort. They needed somewhere to work and, hopefully, that same place could be somewhere to sleep. It would make things easier, Lethe supposed. The others weren’t so calm. They looked with wary, concerned eyes at the men who watched. There was something to be said of robbery when a person is poor, new, [i]fresh[/i], that it had a new sense of danger compared to when a person knows the normal and when things are not in line to it.

He eyed movement in the square, though, a heavy wagon with two men and a cargo of the dead. They stopped to pick up a limp man on the street, who had laid resting against a wall, and a thought sprang to Lethe’s mind. One of his had also seen, spoke in a quiet, sharp voice from behind the gravekeep.

“What d’you suppose they do with them?”

“City doesn’t seem to be free with space. Perhaps a mass grave, perhaps over into the center. Best way to know, though…”

The man didn’t tarry on the latter option, nor for that matter for former. Both potentials was a desecration, a removal of the knowledge and a passing that had been left unnoted, unknown, unmourned by any and all. It was simple silence, one that was even worse by the latter option. While a grave lent the dead their brothers, a dump into the hole there at the center of the city was a removal from all, a hatred, a waste. Those who did it could have their reasons, from space to the hunt to…distraction, but it yet paled in comparison to the damage such would cause to the dead souls themselves, to the people yet left who would never know the name or life of their dead brother. Lethe shook himself free from all of it. Contemplations would lead him nowhere.

He approached the slow wagon with some care, careful to not be seen as a potential robber, careful to not be seen as a potential cargo. It was a fairly vague goal was the brief reflection as he cleared his throat, spoke up to the man in the wagon. “Scuse me. Where do you take them?”