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Bobby agreed putting a hoof to Pyroth's head to comfort him. "Sure, I will lead...." She got up, and lead him further, past the bodies... so much past them.

They went to the clearing. The pig looked around, her brows furrowed. "What is this?" She dug her hoof deeper into Pyroth's fur, gathering comfort from him as well.

The pig did not know about any complications, but she stared in shock at the names of Fiona and Angharad... she had known them both. Bobby bowed her head in grief, they were good girls...!

"No.." F began slowly, watching Miller as he took to his feet.

"But if I don' laugh, I'll-" he cut himself off, not eager to consider what his mental state would be if he had taken to heart every horrific act he'd witnessed. F simply turned away from the display and made to head up the path further.

Billy caught sight of the tombstones just as he heard Jamal's whispered voice. He stiffened, his eyes widening, the aftereffects of the seditives still working their way through his system. "Bloody... Bloody feckin'... s**t.... bollocks...!!" He squeeked, and was suprised that his collar didn't flicker and buzz. A graveyard. A graveyard and he was hearing voices. "I... I d-din' mean t'kill ye!!" He squeeked, glancing around frantically for the source. "I din' mean... don' be goin' all... all... poltergeist on me, now, lad!!"

Ginerva walked amidst the tombstones.
Doctor Duvert... I don't feel I truly comprehended, until now," she whispered under her breath. "Just how much of a genius you truly are.

She watched the silent mourning, friends finally realizing just what had happened to their little compatriots. Maybe NOW they would truly understand their place.

She chuckled softly, then bit her lip. Would she laugh, here, amidist death, and sadness? Amidst people shedding tears over people they knew, cared about, loved?

Yes.

She let it go now, a quavering giggle. It was not too loud, no. But it was passionate. Ginerva had never laughed like this before.
And that was saying something.

Gallen went along with Tommy and then he saw it too. as they entered the filed he timidly went up to the tomb stones. And read aloud. "Oh my god..no...no..this..these...." he suddenly lost his footing and fell to his knees. "Oh my god no...oh god no!!!!!! NOOOOO!!!" Gallen clung to Tommy’s short legs, "No., no, no, I don’t want to die...I don’t. Oh god no, where am I what have I done coming here." tears ran down his face.

Alec's heart nearly stopped when he reached the destination they'd been lead to. The cold chill that ran down his spine was surely psychosomatic, but the teen couldn't help but allow his eyes to drift from headstone to headstone as he read the names with difficulty. He didn't know most of them, infact their presence confused him. Was he supposed to know these people? Was that the ultimate joke? Was he supposed to laugh now?

He found himself slipping away from his hold on the wheelchair to wander amongst the graves, stopping dead in his tracks as the blood drained from the boy's face. The headstone he was staring at seemed surreal, too much to believe. He thought he'd just missed him, that he was busy and Alec had been busy and they'd just hadn't found the time to drop in and say hello. But this, this he hadn't bargained for.

"N.... Nath'n?" Alec managed to choke out, brow burrowing with obvious upset. The bullman, his friend, wasn't busy. He was gone and he hadn't even realized. Without realizing it, the teen found himself slumping down onto the ground with an elbow slung over the headstone as he stared mutely and blankly ahead, tuning out the world.

A grave yard. The path ended there, at the edge of the little fence. Thom was somewhat disappointed by the grand finale, but at least it was calm enough that Newt might calm down. He pried the frog man off of his arm, pushing him towards the ground. "Sit 'ere, stop cryin', I'm goin' to 'ave a look at th' graves an' we'll 'ead back to th' tent, savvy?" Once free of the frog man, Thom joined the group inspecting the small graveyard, carefully avoiding stepping on any of the graves. And all too quickly he became aware that this...this was real.

Complications.

Complications.

Complications.

Murder.

Any of them could die with their next transformation. Any of them could die even sooner if something went wrong. The transformations were painful, but to have subjects actually dead... And others murdered? But the murderer... "Angharad isn't in this graveyard," he noted aloud, perhaps more loudly than necessary.