you don't recover from a night like this

[Jefferson Soul]

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wc320 escape is never the safest path Was he exploring? He hadn't quite considered it that, to be honest. He'd had set intentions when the graveyard fell into sight: learn what he could in connection to his own past, even if it was something unrelated to him. Perhaps more than humans were buried here, he had decided. The human reign had been absent from their soil a long time. Who was to say that normal beings like himself or Ryan hadn't decided to bury their dead in the graveyard? ...Although, now that he was thinking about it, that was almost inappropriate. Why would one of his kin ever want to be laid to rest in a boneyard of miserable, worthless humans? He sneered at his own ignorance. Perhaps he didn't need to look through these graves at all... after all, he didn't know what he was looking for in the first place. Eventually, he already knew, he would end up with no results, no aid whatsoever, and yet his eye continued to glance over the gravestones like some sort of detective. "Not really 'exploring'..." He brushed the dust from another gravestone before releasing a long, weary sigh. It was hopeless, and yet since he didn't plan on trucking it back to such a place again, he had no choice but to go through the rest of the small cemetery as well. "Bones, bones, more bones," he said quietly, pushing himself back up onto his feet and stretching his back casually. He cast a quiet, curious glance on her when she fell silent, and recognized the looks she gave the headstones as she looked them over. An ear twitched. "...They're not that hard to read, if you know how." It was a subtle offering, letting her know that he could be of help, but naturally, Jefferson wasn't the type to exactly put himself out there that easily... so his offerings were always in subtext. "What are you looking for?"

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