Iggy listens, feeling more and more out of his depth. He looks at the horses again, then back out toward where the storm rages on and on. He doesn't burst into tears again, but that's only because he's trying really, really hard not to.
"We don't have stuff like that back home," he says quietly. "The dead stay dead. Talkative, maybe, but dead." He studies his hands for a moment, then sighs.
"I'm sorry. I'm not usually so pessimistic. I'm just trying not to freak out."
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Iggy listens, feeling more and more out of his depth. He looks at the horses again, then back out toward where the storm rages on and on. He doesn't burst into tears again, but that's only because he's trying really, really hard not to.
"We don't have stuff like that back home," he says quietly. "The dead stay dead. Talkative, maybe, but dead." He studies his hands for a moment, then sighs.
"I'm sorry. I'm not usually so pessimistic. I'm just trying not to freak out."