[Two weeks, before they all started coming in. It hadn't been so long after all, and Edward pauses, stares down at the carcass he's carving into before he breathes out, soft and quiet. Saddened.]
I'm sorry for your loss, mate. You must've known some of them well. [He can only hope that their souls aren't trapped here, forced to replay their deaths every time the aurora comes back.
Then he resumes the skinning.]
The townsfolk are all dead, that's true, but you survived—I think because you weren't in town at the time. [Whatever this was, it only took the townsfolk. Then something occurs to him: if all the townsfolk are dead, why stick around? Hell, why go to the trouble of putting a feast together?] But how did you know to start preparations for a feast, for when we came?
no subject
I'm sorry for your loss, mate. You must've known some of them well. [He can only hope that their souls aren't trapped here, forced to replay their deaths every time the aurora comes back.
Then he resumes the skinning.]
The townsfolk are all dead, that's true, but you survived—I think because you weren't in town at the time. [Whatever this was, it only took the townsfolk. Then something occurs to him: if all the townsfolk are dead, why stick around? Hell, why go to the trouble of putting a feast together?] But how did you know to start preparations for a feast, for when we came?