Rosewater Oasis let this prayer be your guide

The gravity in the air was one that tuned him in to be cautious - to mind the jester's tongue that rolled between his teeth, tasting the morsels of his last meals. His family had never been one for funerals; someone died, they mourned, they said their well wishes, they hunted the next night.

Graves were useless, birds and critters alike had something to gain and churn from the bodies - better spent there than to the worms and the grubs that loved to squirm through his grasp. He wondered then, of the ruins that trapped water-logged bodies in a terrible kind of stasis, his eyes faltering to the ground.

These names and titles were lost on him, like those grubs, slipping out of awareness. Andalib's ear flicked, glancing aside, gaze a little too flighty and excited as he inspected the others present, faces and scents unfamiliar enough to spark his curiosity. He kept his chin pointed toward his chest, a look of solemnity that didn't quite suit his face; letting the ceremony pass over him as he pointedly kept his paws and hind planted.