[It is not quite a snarl, but the tone is frustrated, helpless, angry even though nothing about the hard skull-like face can really twist to convey that emotion. He had dug in his own grave, in the neighboring ones, and now he's gone looking only to find... someone who says aloud the reality he did not wish to face.
His hails are covered in soil. The nails are ripped, though they don't seem to display any signs of pain. The fingers curl in the soil in front of his knees...
And the skull-head hangs low, pale eyes closing. He falls silent. He falls still, not even the slightest movement of breathing visible.
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[It is not quite a snarl, but the tone is frustrated, helpless, angry even though nothing about the hard skull-like face can really twist to convey that emotion. He had dug in his own grave, in the neighboring ones, and now he's gone looking only to find... someone who says aloud the reality he did not wish to face.
His hails are covered in soil. The nails are ripped, though they don't seem to display any signs of pain. The fingers curl in the soil in front of his knees...
And the skull-head hangs low, pale eyes closing. He falls silent. He falls still, not even the slightest movement of breathing visible.
This cannot be happening and yet... and yet...]