Hushed Willows Raise a glass of wine for the last time,

the girl is crouched over a once-rabbit; now sharp bones and tough bits of sinew. it is the result of a half hour's careful gathering; here lies all that remains. veritas shifts a jaw bone into position; that one's easy. as is the spine, broken here into thirds, which she carefully aligns behind the skull. the ribs, those delicate bones that must have supported the weight of the creature; those are more difficult. 

she hesitates over a tiny, well-worn curving thing that she can not identify. footsteps; suddenly close, and the girl freezes. bat-like ears perch atop her crown as she shifts to face the oncoming sound, but can not will herself to leave behind her work, and instead hunches nervously over it.