He moved through the bramble, pausing as something different caught his eye. A row of graves, only marred earth and found rocks as headstones, not the precise expenses of a proper cemetery. There were little wisps of flame, coming off the headstones, violet and cyan. It... was something new, at least. But it still wasn't very creative. Or tasteful. He moved over and crouched to look at them, swatting an errant flame away from his head. Distasteful.

<Lacrimosa... there are things here.> Wysteria tried to warn, eyes scanning the graves, the crowns of the trees. He continued to ignore her.

"How in-depth do you think this is?" Wysteria perked up. Was he- talking to her? He had knelt, running hand over the upturned dirt. "Is what's down there decaying? Does it further fertilize the earth?" He scooped up some of the dirt, letting it fall through his fingers. "Are people allowed to die, here?"

Wysteria lunged, jaws snapping around one of the errant branches, the Phantump rocking back as she did. It let out a small wail, and twisted and writhed, managing only in pricking Wysteria with one of the branches. The cat fell off, tail lashing as she picked herself up.

Lacrimosa, meanwhile, was not paying attention to their fight. His attention had returned to the graves, and he had begun to irreverently start digging at one idly with his hand. Seeing what was underneath would be interesting. Would it be something coded in, or something supplied by the subconscious? Hopefully the latter.