If he really thought about it, Bastille knew about Memorial Day. Enough of Grimm's former hosts had celebrated it in their human lives, and a few had even been soldiers at some point or another when it came to pass. It didn't really occur to him, however, until he stumbled upon the two of them and scowled slightly in thought, as if he was trying to place what they were doing here with... flowers? He had lost track of days recently in his daze, and had to count them in his head and shift about for the date in his memories before he came up with the explanation, finally.

"Nice... flowers," he provided, eloquently, as he settled on Luna's other side with his dark stare fixed on the spread. He was trying not to let his misery get the best of him, but he felt something wrench as he studied Starry's grave. After a beat, flowers started to bloom up from the ground around them, twining over the Seraph's grave and those surrounding it entirely. Bast remained silent, though, simply watching.