Blackfoot Forest when night fell she placed hand upon breast; prayed for weeping days of rain

Taken out of context, her inquiries into bones and feathers seemed almost random; now, with an explanation, he understood. As a priest, he had given such offerings to Fengari at ceremonies before, and hoped to do so again soon.

Phocion noses around, looking for what she seeks. "Are you a medic, or a priestess? Or both?" He glances up, icy gaze finding hers. "I know the connection you speak of. About the bones, the feathers. Not about the flowers, though."