Dragoncrest Cliffs the world's grave. not ours.

An eerie silence fell over them all - perhaps it was only for him as nothing seemed to have any sound at all. Not the licking of the waves along the rocks below, the gulls on the shores cawing... nothing. Looking around, he could see the wives still standing, Njord, none of the bodies along the ground really mattered to him anyway so he paid little mind to them as he tried to stabilize his own footing. Along his neck were gashes, stained a deep red and oozing. 

He felt tired, more so than after any battle such as this. Something was wrong, he could feel it creeping over him. The hands of death running its fingers across his back. The feeling was undenyable, a chilling reality check that came to his mind that his days were now numbered... Fatigued, he offered one last glance to the others around him and lingered a little longer on Erzulie, inviting her to try and save what was left of the guardian even if he knew, deep down, that even she could not fix what was so brutality broken. 

For now, he would spend the remainder of his days appreciating the cliffs and silently saying his own goodbyes without worrying the others by making it obvious. Slowly he left the group to rest, a mild limp in one of his legs with a small drunken sway in his gait. This would be the final time some of them would ever see him with breath still in his lungs.

- Exit