Blackfeather Woods i am—yet what I am none cares or knows;

he allowed the touch, the brush of their oddly similar pelts; relmyna's turquoise eyes held the downsweep of a lingering blink before she pulled away, incorrectly assuming that cicero wished not to be touched. her gaze followed the line of his own as he stared at the stone, mistaking his grimace for confusion; she had forgotten he was a man more suited for the sacred plants than anything, though surely he could hear the voices of the dark ones.
on a whim, relmyna seized the stone from the altar and lay upon her belly in the snow, small forepaws on either side of it; the wolfess demonstrated how she would press her muzzle against the stone, her chin resting on the ground before it. seeking cicero's gaze with her own, relmyna invited him to follow suit on the other edge of the stone; her skills were not wondrous by any means, but she had learned to walk the plane wherein sithis dwelled. perhaps with her aid, cicero would also see this marvel.