The Heartwood i am the self-consumer of my woes—

relmyna smiled as the girl inspected the stone, as thoroughly the evoker had upon first seeing it. the girl was not of blackfeather; the priestess did not know from what pack the other hailed. but she would demonstrate all the same, for the curiosity that shone in the yearling also blossomed bright in relmyna's chest.
without the magick of the darkened woods, the woman was unsure of her ability to communicate through the stone with this one, but she would try all the same. relmyna resumed the pose she had been in when the young wolf approached: prone, the rock between her forelegs, muzzle pressed to its surface, and eyes closed. relmyna, she pushed into its chaos, willing it to be borne to the other's ear; she repeated her name over and over, sinking into the welcome and familiar embrace of the stone.