Gotta keep moving or you're dead, too, [ he agrees, a little softer. His dead follow behind him in a long, melancholy line. He's forgotten the faces of most of those he's murdered, for good or ill, but not his brothers and sisters. Sometimes, he writes their names down on walls just to make sure he still has them, each and every one.
He ought to make an altar here, Carver recognizes. He ought to light candles for their souls.
Absently, he touches the pendant he wears. Rubbing his thumb along the circlet. ]
Ain't no use in that when there's work to be done.
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He ought to make an altar here, Carver recognizes. He ought to light candles for their souls.
Absently, he touches the pendant he wears. Rubbing his thumb along the circlet. ]
Ain't no use in that when there's work to be done.