Wild Berry Meadow the burn marks on my epiano wont go away

for @Qiao, other tags for reference!

inkalorë typically avoided straying too far from their family ever since the incident they couldn't quite remember. all they knew was that they didn't want to be away from home again. everyone had been worried and upset. but as they grew older, they found that they liked exploring, finding new places and sights they'd never seen. so they told @Lótë of their intentions and prepared to set out from their home.

as it turned out, @Vairë was interested in tagging along. ink was glad for the company as they set out, spending a day exploring the glen that lay south of moonglow's claim. the next day, they found a shallow place to cross the river they found cutting across the land, and discovered a beautiful meadow.

vairë was - actually, ink didn't know where their sister was; they'd gone their separate ways about an hour ago, each intent on exploring different sections of the meadow and investigating different discoveries. presently, ink was eyeing what appeared to be a small wolf skull, riddled with teeth marks and other scars. no other bones lay near it. scavengers had likely brought it here.

they placed one curious paw on the skull, holding it in place to give it a thorough inspection. it didn't smell old, necessarily, but it wasn't quite fresh either. the flesh and fur were all gone, but the bone itself looked strange to ink. they were used to the dull, dried out appearance of old bones, and this looked all wrong. perhaps they would bring it to kukutux.

qiao had drank deep of the concoction she'd prepared in front of sayf. tipping the tortoise shell back to her lips, she swallowed and the world fell away.

somewhere voices roared like waterfalls crashing.

she followed a hidden thread outside of akashingo's gates; here her ears pounded, the rough whispers endless.

a forest. a plains. a meadow.

qiao's tongue was dry.

ahead of her a figure bent; it was here the golden threads all pulled, ending and bending around a wispy figure encased in filaments of light.

she blinked.

at its feet a skull with a pulsing aura. a totem -- something of great significance to the hemet.

is that yours, child? qiao called to the silence, her voice reverberating along the golden wires. the stars and flowers leaned in as she spoke, her held breath somehow keeping them in place.

ink was almost done with their inspection when someone called to them. looking up, they saw a woman - a coyote! inkalorë didn't know much about coyotes, aside from their reputation as natural competitors to wolves. perhaps another wolf, a better wolf, would have been suspicious on principle.

not ink. they didn't think about it much beyond the initial realization; after that, her question invaded their thoughts and took over. yes, they said, deciding it wasn't a lie. they'd found it, and intended to keep it, so that made it theirs.

why are the teeth like that? ink indicated where the remaining teeth were heavily blunted, unaware that this was a sign of great age in a wolf. to them, it simply looked strange.

inkalore's body was shimmering. qiao felt a numbness in her tongue, a sudden thirst down in her burning throat in which even drinking a river dry would not quench. 

think, think, think. concentrate!

she closed her eyes and inkalore's figure was doused in shadows. wavering still, somewhere unseen.

when she opened her eyes again there inkalore was, eyes trained to the skull's teeth. they were worn to the roots, yellowed and still clinging with the plaque that came as a badge of honor with old age. qiao's head swam.

you eat, you chew, no wolf's teeth ever regrew. she leaned in, paw snaking towards the skull.

should inkalore let her  (in truth, qiao cared not for any possessiveness or burden of etiquette), qiao would place her paw upon the thing;

no sooner did the rough edges of her hand make contact with the skull did a roaring of crashing waves open up the sky. her vision swam from wobbly adolescent to shimmering dark edges and then black. qiao heard the lap of waves and somewhere distant, a trickle of running water. the scent of damp loam and tepid water.

salt.

gradually a shape appeared.

not a shape, but a face blurred by something.  ash?

no. clouds? no.

scars?

the sensation of being pulled downwards as if in a current suddenly seized her. the last second before qiao came to, a pair of hawkish yellow eyes swung menacingly in her vision.

she blinked as inaklore's slight figure took shape in front of her. with a gasp, qiao removed her paw.