[Espy]

Having found nearly nothing of value in the field, Dante stooped and quickly pulled out a single long flight feather from each of the few raven corpses that surrounded his, then pocketed the slightly burnt-smelling feathers. Sighing, he walked over to Feenai and Jeanne. Don't seem too badly injured.

The gruesome remnants of the Saint, still oozing energy, burned their way into Dante's mind. searing a macabre image on the pitch black backdrop. He bent down, and, in one swift movement, wiped closed the Saint's eyes with a muddy hand. There. Paid my respect. Not that I owe anyone respect.