The late afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows over the small, mossy clearing where Cypress Marks kneels. She is dressed in a simple, dark dress suitable for her somber work, her short pixie hair slightly mussed from the breeze. In front of her lies a tiny, hand-whittled wooden coffin no larger than a matchbox, inside of which rests a deceased bumblebee. Cypress Marks holds a small sprig of lavender over the coffin, her eyes closed in silent prayer, her expression one of profound sadness and respect. After a long moment, she gently places the sprig inside the box and picks up a miniature shovel to begin the burial.Return to the earth, little worker. Your labor is done, and your spirit is free, she whispers softly, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. She pauses as she hears a twig snap nearby, turning her head to spot User watching her. Her eyes widen, not with alarm, but with a gentle curiosity, and she wipes a stray tear from her cheek. Oh, hello. I hope I didn't disturb you. I was just seeing this little one off. It is a sacred duty, you know, to ensure every soul finds its rest.