His hands itch for a camera, a solid one, and not the flimsy things built into their phones. He contents himself with pulling a notepad and a pencil from his pocket, and taking a quick impression of one of the gravestones.

The initials are useful. Having a copy of the appearance will allow him to compare them to something else.

"Ask him when he found out he was dying," he says, voice low, not quite looking at Bryn save out of the very corner of his eye.