(When he uncovers his first body, he goes still. Usually one to smile and laugh even at the most unnerving things, he's quiet as he looks down at the frozen body and covers it again, hand lingering on the cloth for a moment as he observes the identical mounds next to this one.

Quiet. Cold. Dark. Lifeless.

Ah. This feels familiar.

When someone enters behind him, he speaks lightly,)

This is a tomb. (He adjusts one of the flowers that had been disturbed by his earlier movements. Interesting. He wonders where they came from.) Look around if you want, but I can't approve of grave-robbing.

(There's information to be gathered and things to find, he objectively understands that much, but all of this feels too close to him.)

(It's cold up here, even Tsurumaru has to acknowledge that much thanks to this human body of his but he's never really thought of himself as human. First and foremost, he was a sword and then a spirit second.

As whimsical and distant as he can be, in truth, Tsurumaru cares for people much more easily than he would ever want to admit. He was forged by people and his spirit shaped by their desires and wishes. Made to protect and named so he could invoke life and fortune, it's only natural that he looks out for those around him.

Which is why when he spots someone huddling from the cold, rubbing their hands together, or blowing into their palms, he sheds his rober and drapes it over their shoulders from behind,)

Careful. You'll catch a cold. (He ignores the chill, ) Or worse, out here.

(Like death.)

(Hit me! You can reach me on plurk eski, discord (eski#9874), or check out my plotting comment. )