Veteran's Plateau Altar

There was something about this particular altar that had caught his attention. While he couldn't quite put his thoughts to words, the whole surrounding area gave him a solemn sense of the world. In the back of his head, he imagined that whoever this statue depicted was one of the last men standing in the leftover carnage of a battleground. Seeing ally and enemy dead alike all around without much of an idea as to what to do next. No matter the side you took or the alignment you chose, you could always find a sense of camaraderie in the shared experiences that had the full potential to live in your dreams for the rest of your life.

He shuffled in and out of those gathered, and as he approached the altar, he hesitated. Reaching into a satchel that draped over his shoulder, he pulled out a flask . Bouncing it in his paw a moment before he took a swig, and then laid the rest at the Altar's feet. There were no words that needed to be said. A drink between soldiers was just another one of those shared experiences that was done to drown out the echoes of the fight. At least, for a little while.  

After another moment of silence, Coran dipped his head to the familiars, turned on his heels, and left the altar behind.