[SE] can't carry it with you if you want to survive

Nodding, Loren kept up his work with his magic. "May they burn brightly." The words came out quietly. However, they were heartfelt.

Once again nodding, he knelt down at the base of the statue. It was already raised off the ground a bit. Placing his hand on the ice, his brow furrowed slightly.

A slight rectangle appeared. Frost began curling onto it. At the top was an inscription: 'For the fallen. May they burn brightly.' Underneath that was a list of the soldiers who'd died in defense of the Citadel.

Standing up, he stepped back. "How's that?" Again, he spoke softly, not really sure where he stood with Korbin.

you are lost, hope is gone

but you must go on

Loren

Base Code by Sky!

Don't put your happiness in other people's hands

The uncertainty was mutual. Korbin felt rather awkward where he stood, hands in pockets and merely watching as Loren worked on the memorial. He wasn't sure what he was really doing there, interrupting a deeply private and personal moment. He didn't feel welcome, nor inclined to put in the effort to really delve into the other man's emotional world. It would require a genuine interest he just didn't have, and to do it half-heartedly would be rude in the extreme.

Maybe he should leave. It was cold, and he was tired... yet the head was still buzzing with all the things he had to do in the morning.

"It looks good," he replied, when the healer stepped back. Tilting his head, Korbin read the names, eyes straining a bit to see the letters in the dark. Many were names he had heard at least once, belonging to more than one face seen in passing. The Citadel was a small town, most knew each other by sight or relation... This would be a blow to many.

The young man closed his eyes, and as he let out a slow sigh, his expression fell. That business-like mask drooped, the wear and grief of lost acquaintances showing through, if only for a moment. It made him look younger. Far too young for the burdens placed on him, at any rate.

They'll drop it

KORBIN

Simply nodding at Korbin's words, Loren slipped his hands into his pockets. "Once everything is cleared up, we can find someone to do them justice." For now, though, this small gesture would have to do.

Glancing at the Overseer, the healer's eyes narrowed. "Get some rest. Don't make me give you a sleeping draught." This time, his voice actually sounded firm. However, the last thing they needed was for the other man to burn himself out when there was so much work they needed to do.

Hesitating for just a moment, Loren glanced at the memorial one last time. "I'm going to go do the same." With that, he turned to head back to his bed.

you are lost, hope is gone

but you must go on

Loren

Base Code by Sky!

Don't put your happiness in other people's hands

Korbin nodded vaguely, his mind already trying to work out the knots and tangles of what would have to be done for that honor to be conveyed properly. Wood and oil to be gathered, families to be informed, time to be pried away from other matters that frankly seemed more important... But his thoughts were scattering like startled ningos, impossible to catch.

"Don't tell me what to do," he mumbled, barely stifling a yawn the second after Loren mentioned rest. But there was a wry smile to his mouth as he said it, that was meant to take the edge off. A play on the surly teenager that hadn't had a chance to peek through in a while.

Still, Korbin didn't insist on remaining where he was. He turned away too, and headed off to find a bed. Not in his own house, because it was too far removed from anyone if things should go awry... No, he'd find a corner at the Kraai, or something like that.

Thus, he was spared the awkward realization that Loren's bed and Weaver's might be one and the same, these days.

Small mercies.

---------------

- FIN

They'll drop it

KORBIN