Funerals are never pleasant, he thought, pulling the collar of his coat up around his chin. It was a chilly night, amplified greatly by the winds howling through the valley. Still, there was business to attend to. Solitary men do not get great funerals where their closest friends mourn their passing, sobbing into handkerchiefs, especially when their closest friends try to kill them on a daily basis.
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An End to All things Sarrell.
