Losing people isn't so hard
sometimes they want to be lost
Here in the Huttle, we don't worry about this things. The people, they come an' they go an' there really is nothing more to come to it. Maybe one day we'll see someone renowned an' they'll just be passing by; no more, no less. Sometimes people die. People die here like anywhere else. People are murdered an' criminals have carte blanche in their respective territories. We don't much pay attention, since this peoples here have their issues an' their things. But nobody worries abou' losing people, right? Nobody worries about it because peoples come an' go an' there's really naught to do about it. Maybe e'ery once in a while we'll have sentimental fools grieving over their beaus one way or other an' peoples simply flow around them, really, as rivers swallow the occasional rock or boulder an' they lie unnoticed to anyone above the surface.