She’s never been lonely. She’s been depressed and felt so terribly awful, yes. But never has she felt that another could find her and suddenly make everything ok - never could they instantaneously cure her. No number of souls could find her and make such a difference. In other words, loneliness was never something she’s been bothered with because she’s had this terrible itch for solitude for her whole life.

There’s a comfort in being completely alone - with no reason to worry about societal expectations. Yet, she has also found an odd form of happiness in select company. Eros, for one. He was much like her and it is he that her mind lingers on as she lounges in the shade by the riverside.

They shared so much sorrow and numbness due to their traumas, it was what had bonded them in some way she thinks. Death was a close friend and confidant to the both of them because of this. She briefly wonders when she may come across him again, because she won’t purposefully seek him out. But the sudden accumulation of bodies on the banks was enough to distract her. Peculiar. She remained in the ditch she had dug for herself, content to lay back and watch what was to come. As long as she remained undetected and undisturbed she could see a relaxing evening coming from this impromptu entertainment.