"Time to dig up your grave... Make you lower your voice... I told you not to play with the misfit toys..." ~~~~ Vander trudged forward slowly, his eyes focused ahead. He couldn't stand to see anymore of the devastation. This had been a mistake. This was his fault. All of this death, all of these people, his fault. A strange sound hit his ears. He wouldn't have paused except that it sounded so close. He turned and scanned the wreckage of the bridge. The red dust cleared to reveal a small head of ash white hair. It was damn near pristine still despite the filthy horrors around it. His brow furrowed as he moved closer. The hair was attached to a child, not much bigger than the older one he was holding already. She sat cross-legged beside an enforcer. His confusion grew when he realized she was just sitting there, holding the enforcer's hand. She was clearly from the Undercity. The question was why she was there still at the man's side. Nym's voice tapered off as a dark shadow loomed over her. She turned and looked up. About a foot away, the man her parents had identified as Vander, stood with two children in his arms. His eyes met her dull gray ones. He then nodded in the direction he was walking. She looked down at Jeremiah. His eyes had long since lost any semblance of light. "Good night, Jeremiah," she said gently and reached over. She closed his eyes then let go of his hand and stood. Without another word, she picked her way toward Vander, stepping over bodies and debris. When she reached his side, he continued walking toward the Undercity. He felt a slight tug at his waist and looked down. She was walking beside him, her thin fingers gripping onto his belt loop. The man said nothing, just led her home.