▹▹▹▹ Atticus did not know Gabriel personally, nor was he certain what had drawn his paws out to that section of the territory that day, but the sight that he was to bear; the scattered feathers and the peaceful, quiet body of Gabriel draped across the two graves was somehow... morbidly beautiful. His paws stilled as his body came to a quiet halt, his breathing barely permeating into the air as a wisp of sound, a hushed, ceasing silence over the area, as if the world itself dare not disturb the area. It was only in a long moment later that his head bowed respectfully to the fallen man that lay upon the graves, showing what respect he might now for the fallen dead. "Travel well," his low voice murmured gently. He knew, in time, others would soon follow his steps to this place, drawn to the smell of death, that a proper burial would have to be held; but for now, he paid his quiet respects to this stranger of their homelands.