Sawtooth Spire i'd free all my sons

Large paws removed the last of soil from the carved terrain, a perfect little bowl ready to accept random decaying body parts. The inky Eta shifted to allow the sooty pup access, gaze averting so that little attention was given to the obviously intimidated youth. "Push them in," he instructed first, muzzle nodding from the little pile of skulls before jutting towards vacant hole in earth. 

The question, though seemingly ignored, was approached next. "So they don't rise again and wander the earth as empty souls," he began with a lift of eye ridges for comprehension before moving on. "Everything has a soul. You. Me. When we die, our lifeforce dies with it, and unless souls are lain to rest they are doomed to walk this earth for eternity. Only surrendering the center of our core, our heads, will give rest to the inevitable." Another small pause caused a purse of lips. "Everything that lives deserves an end," he finished, a tilt of inky jawline observing what sort of reaction this would prompt.