Surveying the scene silently from a distance, she mulls the question over in her mind, absentmindedly running her fingers along the handle of her parasol. While not exactly comfortable, the shade from her parasol makes being out in the daylight at least somewhat bearable.
"Most think I'm already dead... so perhaps a small gathering of the close friends and family who know the truth, to spread my ashes through my rose garden... though I doubt I'll need to consider that day for quite some time."
She closes her eyes, bowing her head as she gives a moment of silence for the rows of casualties laying before her. Being quite accustomed to the unsightly result of war and strife through her exceptionally long existence (or at least comparatively to most), she finds herself more intrigued by the story behind the beginnings of the mass grave before her.
"Should you require assistance, come nightfall I would gladly lend my services, my only condition is that someone tell me the story behind this massacre. As unfortunate as it may be, I found myself thrust into this place a little too late."