Blackfeather Woods Hocus Pocus

Drifting along the borders, he'd been pondering a trip to the lake when the howl had risen through the treetops. Recognizing the voice, and that he was one of the ones being summoned, his previous doings were abandoned and his direction changed. In the direction from which the howl had originated he'd gone, passing by the various trees until he had eventually reached the alter. He'd not been the first to arrive, his distance away having deemed that impossible, but he'd filed in just as he'd been meant to nevertheless. He'd been too late to have heard Cicero's comment, and knew not enough of plants to be able to identify anything that had been gathered and laid out. Their purposes, the risks, and the benefits all eluded him, but he held no intentions of questioning the young priestess. She knew what she was doing, that much he was certain of, and so she'd been left to explain why they were there whenever she'd deemed fit.

His gaze had drifted away and lingered briefly upon the pelvis, but with no knowledge on how the ritual worked, he could not assume that which she'd prepared to do. He'd drawn close, though, observing everything and anticipating whatever the pale girl had planned.