Ankyra Sound even the earth no longer remembers

having believed that he hadn't been followed by the stars or suns of his life ...or one of the other members of rusalka scarab darts into the den with unhindered confidence. many of the non-family members of rusalka he was as unfamiliar with as the sun was with the moon except in the rare occurrences when it eclipsed. scarab was aware of them ( probably knew them by name and sight ) but as he was much more mobile than he'd been when they could just pop in the den for a visit it was likely hard to catch him. though he didn't mean to be hard to find the truth was he could be found if not on the beach then in the depths of the grotto looking for more treasures to add to his growing menagerie ...which was beginning to look less like a child's collection of pretty things to something that might be found in a pharaoh's tomb ( or perhaps a necromancer's home ). seaglass, feathers, bones and petrified things with hollow eyes frozen in time.

the ruby red piece of seaglass is placed alongside it's fellow assortment of seaglass pieces seconds before reyes' yips bounce off the walls of the den. startled, scarab turns quickly, his hackles bristling with unbidden annoyance. rey! scarab growls a shorter variation of his red brother's name around the pounding of his little heart against it's prison of flesh and bone. scarab shuffles his position, trying to hide his menagerie from his brother's view; not out of embarrassment but because ...well ...it felt extremely private. like a diary that he wasn't ready to share with even those that he undeniably and unconditionally loved.

he shifts back and feels the calamus and rachis of the horned owl's feather he'd unintentionally stepped on break beneath the crush of his paw and his attention shifts down abruptly, recoiling his paw back. oh no... scarab wilts and inspects the broken feather with a notable slump of his shoulders as reyes is temporarily forgotten about.