Morr looked at the disaster unfolding before him, eyeing the unconscious man, 'Mr Rattles' and the girl. Keeping his eyes set upon the source of the ragged breathing. Sighing, still feeling nothing, not even dread of telling her that the man was on the edge of death, Morr rose from his bed again and made his way to her.<br/><br/>Again he knelt, mechanically forcing himself to set a hand on her shoulder, but was too weak to grant her an embrace to protect her against death's taunt.<br/><br/>Morr answered the child's pleading "I am sorry, child, but what... 'mister rattles' suffers is something far beyond my abilities. However, rest assured that brother Blake watched over him and was able to prevent what... 'Malfeas' suffered." He beheld the man, perhaps for the first time truly. He saw a withering corpse barely clinging to life, a release from the torment through simple dying seemingly a merciful act in and of itself.<br/><br/>"Know this, milady, that if this man would yet suffer what Malfeas suffered, then it would not be unwelcome for him." ignoring the weariness he felt whenever he saw dying men, Morr continued "Know that not always do we have to think that they are gone, but rather that they have gone to a different place, a place from whence they look down on us, while- while-" he swallowed "- while being happy at our accomplishments, cheering for us whenever we think of them, urging for us to go on, for them."<br/><br/>Closing his eyes, ignoring all the apathy and self-loathing he felt, he took Mary in his arms, hugging her "And even if they would not, we can be happy to have known them, to keep their memory always within us, living on to honor what they passed onto us."