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Warhorse Way
Callused fingers grasped the basic curtains and pulled them back from the windows. There were small ties that he found, and made use of, and Tomick worked quickly, letting light fall into the room. Once the windows were all completely open, he looked around the room again, and felt his stomach begin to rebel. This wasn't battle. It was a massacre. At least battle made it seem like there was an even fight. This was just... disturbing. He walked outside in time to catch most of Greta's story, and stood by. Whisper was the one to make a decision on this. As she swallowed and paused for a moment, he moved, standing by her, silent support.

Brian stared after Greta as Exelder led her away, still holding the horses. He jumped a little bit at Whispers command and nodded, patting the splotchy horse, and then moving to go around back. There was a small garden plot, just enough to feed a single family. It had been raided and then destroyed though, the vegetables gone and the plants all destoyed. In a small shed against the house he found several tools, one of them a crude wooden shovel. Picking it up, he leaned agains the house and looked around. The only truly clear space was the garden, unless they wanted to space the bodies out around the clearing in odd ways. He figured that the garden would be best, and started back towards the front of the house.

Tomick nodded to whisper. "It's fine, Whisper. I'll find a stream nearby to wash them in." He moved swiftly, tying Sunhigh in order to make sure the horse stayed, and then moved to drag the bodies out into the main front of the house. Once that was one, he came across Brian. "Was there a bucket back there, Brian?" Recalling the bucket that was at the bottom of the shed, Brian nodded and ran to get it. The older man took the bucket and moved towards a well traveled path that he was sure led to the stream. He came back with a bucket full of water, and using one of the sections of blanket from inside that wasn't covered in blood, started upon the grisly job of cleaning the torn up bodies.


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