He nodded, and gently nuzzled the much larger female gold back, before turning to the bodies, a brief moment of consideration, along with the sudden realization that they were no longer the only ones here, though the extra audience was not present, the watchers most certainly were weighing what had been done. "Experience to experience, journey to journey, cradle to cradle. All life is is a road from one point to the next, joy, sorrow, happiness, sadness, gain and loss. In the end, after all is said and done, when the final goodbyes have been said, the last line written and the book closed, the last story told, and the long sleep begins, we are measured not by ourselves, but how our actions have effected others, and what we have left behind. One is normally measured by the others that were touched, the lines drawn by friendship, love, affection, and trust to other souls."<br/><br/>He paused again, considering, before continuing. "But sometimes, far to many fall, leaving a handful, lost and adrift, unable to properly mourn, as these services are not for the fallen, but for the survivors, those left behind as others begin their longest journey, that to their next life. Those who have gone ahead are ahead, eyes on the paths before them, memories of their friends and family sharp and driving them onward to their next life, hopefully with the hope that they can do more, touch one more life, leave a tiny bit more happiness, improve the world that much more, before they again take that long sleep, and move on yet again. The fallen can not pause in that journey, any more than the living can. All we can do is say goodbye, and move on, to take what we learned from our sorrow and loss, and resume throwing out those threads, to help, to touch, to love, to care for others, to help spread hope. Death is never the end, it is merely another waypoint. It is only the beginning."<br/><br/>He stopped, out of words, not sure if they were the right ones, but he would be damned before he simply stood by and forced her to burn everything, as if her life had been utterly annihilated and nothing had cared. He would always act, and while he might regret not taking a certain action, he would never again regret taking no action. He stared at the slowly spreading flames, his mind springing back to the last bonfire he had been at, where he had been the only one present, his small home, his mother's...remains, there wasn't enough left to call it a body, inside, and the feeling that no one else had cared. He absently leaned against Ashara, gently rubbing his head against hers, giving her support and taking some of her sorrow from her.