Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-30014014-20180329151955

Prad lifts his hands in an open palm toward the group "I've been..."

His eyes still looking away, they redirect to the place under the cliff. A place turned by his hand to a grave. Each deceased now given a grave to rest in, specs of dust seeping to the heavens from inside. His expression, cut from the group, is weary in empathy "...busy".

This last share of expression with the passed on, he turns back to the group, a sense of fright returned to a tempered state as he fixes his eyes on Armata, Alburn and Tirush. He sticks to the edge of the cliff, making the same motion to launch himself into flight. "Ready when you are". he meekly speaks, his hover among the sky stable and standing by.