The Sunwardens returned to their home, completely vacant of any Grayhounds and Skullheads. They prepared all the corpses they could find of their people and prepared for a large funeral.
In the desert, there was no surplus of wood to create a pyre to burn their people. Neither was the ground so soft or sturdy to bury them. Instead, they took their people to the middle of the desert and placed them at the center.
As evening came, beasts would spill out of the ground, consuming their dead.
From the desert they were born, and they lived their life because of the desert. When the end came, to the desert they went.
Once the funeral was over, the Sunwardens began rebuilding their home.
Alex did nothing really to help, simply walking around the place, his red skin fading slowly over the course of the day. He had heard about himself from a few people as rumor seemed to have spread already.
