Honeyed Pasture and watched an aspen that confirmed it

it is not an antler from a live deer he seeks — mostly because he was only one and he did not have the skills to take down a buck by himself ( even if he would've been an adult ) — but the scents tell him that the deer roam and linger in this area.

he follows where the scents hang thick and heavy into the air — unaware that he is followed — discovering what he was looking for: a small pile shed antlers; covered in spiderwebbing moss.

a low rumble of content lingers in ingram's chest as he plucks the biggest antler betwixt his jaws; tasting deer musk and earthy moss. he turns to make his journey back in search of trikova or morgana ...only to see speaker's form in the distance, watching him.

he approaches her and sits the antler down at his paws. for your rituals. he offers, motioning to the antler with his paws. many questions bubble to the edge of his tongue ( annoying as it was because he didn't enjoy talking and instead preferred the silence he'd once held to ) and he sorts through them. let me know if you and the listener need anything. he almost calls her trikova but stops himself: that name is for them, between them only.