A hare dangled from Cerne's jaws as he padded up a tall glacier; this would serve not only as his meal, but he would process the pelt in order to make a small pouch. Eventually, he would make a larger pouch, but for now, this would do fine. He used his teeth to first chew a hole into the pelt, then used his blunted claws to skin the hare to the best of his ability - which, admittedly, wasn't very well. Then, he wolfed down his dinner, careful to eat around the bones; not all were worth saving, those ones, he would eat. He would gnaw one on both ends, so that he could thread it through the hareskin pouch, and when he was finished, he had... well, exactly that - a shoddy pouch made of hareskin, with a piece of sharpened bone holding all the edges together.

A stranger called out to him, and Cerne lifted his head to see a pretty female a short distance away. "Hello," he greeted in return, offering a short dip of his head. He would have offered a bone reading, but he didn't have enough to work with. He offered his name, and profession, "I am Cerne - a soothsayer. Who might you be?" His words were curious, and he peered curiously at her.

So, she was taken - that was a shame. "A pleasure to meet you, Sakhmet. A soothsayer is one who tells the future. I cast bones, scry, and read the future by studying the stars and the weather." He nudged his pouch, then pulled the bone free so that the pelt opened, showing several hare bones. "I will seek out stones, shells, and other objects that call to me, and I will add them to my pouch."

Cerne debated Sakhmet's words, frowning slightly as he did. It was true that his mother had taught him the art of divination, but he also believed it was something one was born with. He told her as such, still frowning, "It... can be taught, to a degree. However I believe it is also a power one is born with." He busied himself with closing his pouch, then looked back to her. "Is that something that interests you?" He supposed, once he had all of his materials, that he could return and give her a reading, if she wanted.

She smiled, and he smiled faintly in return. As her gaze slipped past him, he turned, too, though he knew not what she was looking for. At her inquiry, he nodded, telling her in a quiet sort of rumble, "Speak, Sakhmet, and I will listen. What troubles you?"

Cerne thought on her words, another frown tugging at his lips. "I have travelled alone for quite some time... It is not a decision to make lightly." He met her gaze, then, and he could see... not desperation by any means, but perhaps some vulnerability? He gave a thoughtful sigh, then said, "I will think on it. In the meantime, I would know you better." Cerne sat then, getting comfortable. "Many wish to know the future, until it is laid bare before them... so tell me, Sakhmet — what is it that you fear?"

A wry smile was given at her answer, but he did not prod. Then, a question for him. Children — he had thought about it. He had yet to meet a woman who would take him, though perhaps it was for lack of trying; no matter. He was young, and full of vigor. He had plenty of time to find a woman.

"I am not a father, but it is my hope that one day, I will be." He quirked a brow at her — it was almost too easy to infer. A soft smile, then, "You've had your first children this year." It was not spoken as a question.

Cerne allowed her to approach, stretching out his nose to catch her scent better. Her words stirred him, and he was beginning to feel the same draw to her that she had to him. "I... will agree on two conditions." His eyes sought hers, and he continued, "First, that I might stay for a sort of... trial period — perhaps a month, before I make up my mind. And secondly, I would ask that we exchange gifts." In his culture, it was a show of good faith. He would smile slightly, then added, "Perhaps you could seek an item that I could add to my tools? Anything that might speak to you, anything at all." It didn't have to be bones, though that was one of his main sources of divination. "Personal or treasured items will have a more accurate reading." He wondered whether she would accept these terms.

Cerne shook his head, telling her, "There will be no need. I keep my tools with me at all times — if I do not, my spirit connection with them will eventually weaken and fracture." Perhaps he didn't need to hold them on his person 24/7, but he was too superstitious not too. He also would not let others read with them — each kit was personal to its user, and allowing others to use it would also violate the spiritual connection. "I feel a call elsewhere, for now — when I return, shall I call for you at the river? And what of your husband?"

Another small smile was given, then Cerne dipped his head. "I will return likely within a week's time. My hope is to have completed my set by then." He rose then, ready to take his leave. He had not seen this coming, but then again, he had never read his own future. "I leave you now, Sakhmet," Cerne murmured, turning to take his leave.