Bonesplinter Ravine puppets with their strings cut

The heavy scents of death and decay had all but masked the approach of the female, leaving Kukulkan to spin around at the sound of her voice.

Ears perked and eyes widened as his sights settled on a shadow-cloaked flame, the confidence of this stranger lending a bit to the boy as he chuckled aside her question for the moment. "Well shit where'dya come from?" He turned back toward his specimen, dedicated to this self-taught lesson, "Coulda made me knock over my bones..." Mumbled complaints were soft under his breath, faded out as his attention turned from his new company to the delicate wing bones.

"I mean if ya wanna get real technical here, I was the one who asked, but it was fer Mr. Corvid here..." He sat up, facing the strange girl while dramatically gesturing to his reassembled bird skeleton on the ground. "They're my favorite," Idle musings, "Smart, crafty, survivors..." A glance back at the bones, "Well... obviously not this particular fucker..." An awkward shrug of the shoulders before he sat himself back down to the ground, though decidedly not as closed off as before.

"The crafty ones always got stories... got secrets..." A wry chuckle and a grin, his one crooked ear twitching a bit. "What about you?" Tell me, lovely stranger, "Got any stories?" are you the trickster kind?

@Fire