"I will try not to, if I do, I'll never find out who on earth was buried or not buried in that grave anyway." Yujin had his theories, his fair share of theories at that and no matter what or how he went around it, none of it made much sense in particular. There were many things he could substitute for his own body, maybe he was just wrong overall and he hadn't died at all - maybe he had never come here, maybe he just had some sort of prophetic dream and now they were stuck out here, in the vast, snowy lands that he called his home, but none of that was going to make sense if he thought about it like this. Richard was right, memories weren't always right, sometimes memories were nothing more than mirages, not worth a single thing, but no matter how many thoughts he'd waste on a thing as simple as that, he'd have to come to accept that he wouldn't just magically retain his memory if he forced himself to figure it out now. Yujin was a mess, a whole, a half, more than that - nothing was going to make sense anymore if this kept up, he'd forget who he was in the first place and while all the doubts of and about this world swallowed him whole, he'd already be a new and different person, not necessarily an improved one, but someone that definitely was not himself, like it had always been and continued to be. Yujin kept up with himself, nobody else.
"Just dreams are horrible enough as is", the wolf grimaced. Richard knew that himself, they woke him up almost every night and when they didn't, he didn't seem to sleep all that well, either. Yujin griped at the tea, then drank half of it in one go, almost burning his tongue, but he was chasing after the warmth either way, so he didn't quite mind. His attention went back to the obvious things, yet, it felt as if there was something amiss, still and there was Richard, who felt like a decoy right about now. "I don't know, you're usually the gloomy one. I have to keep you in check", he reprimanded him, then - eventually - grabbed the cross again and retrieved the knife that he'd stuff between his boots and pants. The trick itself was neat, but those clothes weren't made for some knife-hiding, that much was apparent. The wolf opened the knife, let his fingers wander over the intricate design and then over the inscription, as if he wanted to check how deep all of that was - before he started carving off tidbits here and there, shallow ones. "The thing is, this cross isn't just hastily put together. It's solid and there's some patterns engraved into the wood - you know where else those patterns are? On Silesses flags, its official garments, literally any pattern of fabric hailing from here. Somebody went out here and put up the cross posthumously, whyever that is - and those clothes, the coat at least, is something I remember wearing a lot before the incident, but it evaporated in thin air after. There's paintings of me wearing this stupid thing and not one other piece of fabric, so it follows that my coat got left behind. But, you know, who would make a burial like this for a coat?"
"Just dreams are horrible enough as is", the wolf grimaced. Richard knew that himself, they woke him up almost every night and when they didn't, he didn't seem to sleep all that well, either. Yujin griped at the tea, then drank half of it in one go, almost burning his tongue, but he was chasing after the warmth either way, so he didn't quite mind. His attention went back to the obvious things, yet, it felt as if there was something amiss, still and there was Richard, who felt like a decoy right about now. "I don't know, you're usually the gloomy one. I have to keep you in check", he reprimanded him, then - eventually - grabbed the cross again and retrieved the knife that he'd stuff between his boots and pants. The trick itself was neat, but those clothes weren't made for some knife-hiding, that much was apparent. The wolf opened the knife, let his fingers wander over the intricate design and then over the inscription, as if he wanted to check how deep all of that was - before he started carving off tidbits here and there, shallow ones. "The thing is, this cross isn't just hastily put together. It's solid and there's some patterns engraved into the wood - you know where else those patterns are? On Silesses flags, its official garments, literally any pattern of fabric hailing from here. Somebody went out here and put up the cross posthumously, whyever that is - and those clothes, the coat at least, is something I remember wearing a lot before the incident, but it evaporated in thin air after. There's paintings of me wearing this stupid thing and not one other piece of fabric, so it follows that my coat got left behind. But, you know, who would make a burial like this for a coat?"
Looking back, it maybe is like the toy carts you rode when you were a kid. But those toy carts could never go beyond the walls of the lawn. We want to follow the rugged concrete road beyond the wall. As we've grown, we've decided to leave behind the toy cart.
