Broken stones and a iron gate closing the entrance with a name placard that the name is worn off.
Old Crypt, Graveyard
gravedigger
a large black vulture
I am hungry and looking for some tasty and smelly.  I have many friends that join me in my quest for something to eat.  My large wingspan scares onlookers.
Certainly there will be something to eat here. Ahh what a horrid life. Why do you say that? Everyone shuns me for my work. That seems unreasonable, it is simply a job. My association with death puts them off. Perhaps in that we are the same. Yes I can see that, we are similar. A living is a living though, we all have to do it. Yes but I need the money but I am all alone because of it. I would say that sometimes solidarity can build personal strength. Yes but too much will cause so much pain.