Blackfeather Woods I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker colour

As expected, Maegi was here. She rose up from the coffin-esque altar, split in twain in the hollow's center, as Ramsay began to clamber down the rocky hill toward her. All the while, the heavy feel of the mire pressed in around him, so when he closed the distance and greeted her with an affectionate shake of his short tail, his eyes held a mildly frantic light to them.

"No," he agreed, turning slowly on the spot to examine the altar beyond Maegi. "Air is heavy here. Many eyes watching. Many eyes judging." Judging him and everyone else, he was sure. Ramsay was devout enough to not feel like he'd done something wrong, but he was all wrong himself, a little gremlin, and everyone thought so even if they didn't say it. Licking his lips thoughtfully, the dwarf twisted his ears back 'round to his sister and, still watching the altar, he stated, "you do not like Cicero as father."