Dragoncrest Cliffs B-E-A-U-T-Y

Oh, Miette. The sight of her prodding and shouting hurt even Maleah's embittered heart, and her face contorts even more into a deep frown. How come he's dead?
That, she didn't know, at least not upon first glance. Her instinct was to inspect, to find out; but a forensic examination in front of children was not exactly on her to-do list for the day. She puffs air from her nose. We might not always know why somebody died, she then moves her paw to rest at the shoulder of little Miette, urging her to back away. it could be any number of things. Sometimes someone gets really sick and can't get better, or maybe gets injured and can't heal. as she looks at the carcass, she realizes just how recent its demise must have been. It churns at her stomach. but he-- he can't wake up, sweetheart. He's not asleep. Not in a normal way.
Her gaze trails over to Tousaint once more, a softness floating across her features. When somebody dies, you bury them in the ground so that they're nice and protected while their soul passes on, and she turns again to Miette, a sympathetic warmth to her northern tongue. would you guys like to help me put him to rest?