You were standing at the grave of you lost loved one. Your face covered in tears. A bouquet of red cloves in your left hand. You felt a soft touch to your right palm. Rough skin opening your fisted hand and some rain staining the hot inside of your hand.

Another hand slid into yours and a thumb softly rubbed fingers on the outside of your palm

"... Let's light a candle for them, soldier..."

Price softly said. His hat pressed to his chest as a form of giving honour.