An armored figure sat before the hearth of Cartref Mor's tavern, clutching the letter in his hands. His eyes would wander between the words, only half reading them... His shoulders slump slightly as he continues, though not a sound escapes his helm. Underneath, his face remained emotionless.
He considers dropping the paper into the fire, to be done with the memories of yet another friend lost, but falters. He instead sets the letter on the floor nearby, pulling a small crooked knife from his belt in it's stead. He stares down at it, his eyes bouncing between the blade and the fire, as a quiet chuckle escapes his mouth...
"I won't forget you, f--"
