I separated the bones of my witness and buried them. It was more than he deserved but I gave it to him anyway. In a short time they did to him what took forever to be done to me. They ripped away everything till all that was left was the skeleton within. When I held his pieces it angered me to no end. I could feel that unlike me, there was no longer any suffering for him. Whatever fear and disappointment he felt living through his own turning on him. Will never be enough to redeem the loss of not killing him myself. I take solace in the idea that the other witnesses only need to tell my tale half as well.