Mordred hung his head and let his long hair obscure his face from view. He hated being taken away. He didn't even look at the others. He knew all to well that there would likely be no one there he could relate to. Passing a sentence of silence upon himself, he thought of missed opportunities and mistakes. He was lost in a land of regret and completely distant from the rotting corpses packed into the van with him. That was another reason why he failed to look up; he was afraid of what he might see.