I SEE FIRE | candles

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XVIII - THE MOON

a monument dreams and fantasies come to life, the representation of instincts often left suppressed and a knock into our subconscious.  Virgil of the pitt is a study in beauty: a perfect understanding of that which terrifies you, a perfect picturesque of horror and delight

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The broken temple felt like a ruin. As winter breathed it's chill down into the desert the runt spotted the leader in a moment of silence. No one dared break the silence, and worst of all the spiritcaller. The pittian stepped closer towards the temple, watching gale and Kold quietly set up and light candles. Candles of remembrance- it was a tradition she hadn't seen before, but she wasn't one to snuff other's about it. Just that she had no one to truly talk to on the other side. She had no one she wanted to remember, truly.

Virgil could admire the candles- the fire though. She settled herself next to an unlit candle along the steps. Daring not step up too high into the broken thing. Instead of lighting the candle she took to watch the pair in theirs. Everyone here was here for a reason- a reason person to remember maybe- a person to mourn.

She wondered what it was like to mourn something. Sickly eyes intense switching from fox to wolf- and finally towards the small flickers of flame.