Veda walked slowly toward Bale after watching the others leave, his steps quiet against the grass as though even the ground understood the mood of that place and refused to make noise.
He stopped beside him, then leaned slightly forward, his eyes moved carefully—first to Bale's right cheek, then to the left.
Both sides were red, almost swollen, tear marks still wet.
"You are crying…"
Veda said softly as he lowered himself to sit beside him, placing his weight down slowly so he wouldn't disturb him too much.
Bale didn't turn or react, his gaze just remained fixed ahead. At the graves.
Veda followed his gaze.
The two brothers sat side by side, quiet.
The wind moved through the grass, brushing against their clothes, carrying a strange calm that didn't match what Bale was feeling inside.
Time passed.
"I couldn't do anything…" Bale's voice finally came out dry and heavy.
"They were just… dying… one after the other… right in front of me…"
