Cordelia had honestly thought the wreath was really beautiful. If she had been unfortunate enough to have a grave to put something on, that is what she would have chosen. Given the name and date of birth/death on the grave that they ended up stopping at, Cordelia came to the conclusion that this was the grave of his father. She couldn't help but feeling like she was intruding a bit. It was one of the reasons she had kept back a little bit, given Oren his space to do whatever it was people did at cemeteries. Grieved. Spoke to their loved ones, like this brought them closer. She wasn't sure.
Oren turned to look at Cordelia, apologizing for seeming rude. Cordelia shook her head, waving a hand at him. "No, yer not bein' rude. Go 'head and take yer time." She frowned, wondering about this war everyone kept talking about. She canted her head to the side. "I don' mean ta be nosy, but, I don' really know about this war everyone keeps talkin' 'bout." She folded her arms across her chest somewhat timidly, feeling a little embarrassed. When she had been recruited, someone had told her there was a war. About mutants. And that the Syndicate was there to help, to give mutants the freedom to be known about without fear. Honestly, she had been paying attention but not really retaining. She had been so excited that someone knew what she was, that she couldn't think much about anything else.