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Elderbug makes his way to the graveyard. It's not so far a distance, but it still takes him a long time, and this time longer than usual, because he has the flower clutched in one hand. He notes the bent steel gates, forced open due to rusting in that position, and the footsteps leading to the graveyard. He's seen that young bug who never gave Elderbug their name - the one who gave him the flower - come here often. Elderbug doesn't know why, but he doesn't ask. Come to think of it, that bug hasn't been here in a rather long time. Elderbug is starting to get a little worried, but he doesn't dare leave Dirtmouth.
He finally pushes open the steel doors and does his best to ignore the two large glowing eyes in the darkness, but he's still mildly unsettled. Elderbug walks among the graves until he comes to the one he wants.
His friend's grave is rather well-kept, Elderbug likes to think. He could probably do a much better job of it, but given that he has to keep all the graves, and what with him getting on in years, this is the best he can do for now.
Elderbug kneels in front of the shellwood headstone and digs a small hole in the dirt. He puts the flower into the hole and pats the dirt down around it. A tear splashes onto the flower before he can restrain himself.
When Elderbug leaves, the glowing eyes are still there. He sits on the iron bench for a moment before reassuming his normal position.