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Rustle. Gao Yang reached War Tiger's side and sat cross-legged in the snow, joining him in his quiet vigil before White Rabbit's grave.
War Tiger remained silent, his expression hovering between calm and numbness.
Gao Yang picked up a bottle of black nail polish from the snow-covered ground and opened it, clumsily painting his left thumb. He'd never done this before, his inexperience obvious, but that didn't matter. He just needed something to do.
War Tiger slowly turned toward the movement, snow falling from his hair and shoulders. His voice came out rough. "Give me one."
Gao Yang tossed one over.
War Tiger caught it with a weak grin. "Rabbit loved...
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