As Natyr passed the torch back to Aemoten, he noted they were the only two who stood over the body of the boy as the flaming branch was thrust into the mass of sticks. Natyr hadn't bothered stripping moss or dried leaves and needles from the trees, and the flame found footing easily enough after a minute or two passed them by. Soon it roared and cackled before the worn faces before it, Natyr remaining silent as Aemoten's tongue rolled forth some words. While his squinting eyes stared at the hungry flames, his thoughts wandered to why the others were choosing the avoid the simple ceremony. He'd imagined they'd been together with the boy longer, but here instead was the man he'd just met. Perhaps they just wanted to push the event from their minds. Especially Jaelnec. Natyr expected the Nightwalker would want to push any connections he had to the demon-lady as far from his self as possible. Any sane man would. At least, Natyr would, and he thought himself sane. In any case, Aemoten's placement of the sword would ensure that the boys memory wouldn't fade by morning at least. After that, it probably wouldn't be long before one of the forest denizens claimed the weapon for itself.
A brief nod was given to Aemoten as the man turned away, leaving Natyr to stare into the growing flames. The Melenian took a step or two back as the flames crept up the logs, growing to gigantic proportions as light was cast all about the clearing. He watched in silence as sparks danced from the top of the flames into the night sky, vanishing into the dark veil above. He harrumphed, looking back to the body and giving a bow before retreating from the foul smelling flames himself. In his head he bounced about various ideas of what his god's afterlife would be like as he walked back to the lesser of the two fires burning in the clearing.
Natyr arrived just to late to hear the exchange of words between Thaler and Aemoten. It was probably just an exchange of pleasantries though, as Aemoten moved to where he'd left a blanket earlier and quickly passed to the realm of sleep. At seeing the man turn his mind towards the realm of sleep, Natyr felt as if his own body was now feeling the full weight of the day, and it was no light load. He had thought briefly to get some tea before retiring, but changed his mind, wanting to avoid anymore chances of conversation that would keep him awake even a minute longer. Sleep called in it's sweet, seductive tone, and Natyr proceeded towards it with vigor. He have a quick nod to the others about the fire before curling himself into a ball about five feet from the small fire. A sigh escaped him as he shuffled about a few seconds after laying down, then he settled, and soon his breath fell into a steady rhythm as his mind carried him forth to the land of dreams.