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This graveyard was old some of the stones worn almost completely away from rain and elements. Even the loftiest marble graves had lost all definition. However these were yet the youngest here built only after the dead completely filled the deep catacombs below. Grave robbers had to be careful of such old places that spirits or zombies did not consume the unwary. Many of the fresh bodies in this place were not brought in coffins.

Especially one such body that smacked a bloody hand across Cruor's scaled head impaling itself on a horn. It wriggled and the crimson-colored pseudodragon whipped his head out of a mixture of surprise and disgust. At least until getting hit with stones and dirt to look up and see a forming crack in the ceiling. He dove away with sharp claw pressing to cracks moving barely in time to not get crushed with stone. Instead being buried under sod and a rotten coffin shattering on his sturdy back. A loud shout matched his own as someone fell through with the good fortune to be above the debris at the time.

He pushed at the coffin moving it just enough to get room to breathe a four legged creature with a strong back and heavy muscle. Sin pseudodragons also rather fond of black humor he remarked at the air while coughing, "Unlucky enough to be smashed by the only other one shopping? How this day has gone so far!"