Eadan sat down directly on the wet ground and rested his arms on his knees.
He plucked the nearest grass blade and began twisting the fragile stem with his hands.
He looked ahead at the pool of white marble plates. It looked like it was endless.
In a way it was.
Eadan used to come here often before. The quiet of the place was never failing to put his mind at ease.
But things had changed rather drastically in the past few years and he had almost stopped coming.
Lockjaw never liked the place either.
Eadan had always thought it was weird, considering how dramatic Lockjaw was about everything.
“I know I don’t come very often, “ he said after a long moment of stillness.
“And I didn’t bring you any flowers. I know you liked them, we still have your favorite orchids in the garde
