Bearclaw Valley Drink me

It worked; Indra was intrigued by what the bruin-heart promised, enough that she moved away from her meal. When she stopped and turned back, Arielle frowned. Had she changed her mind? Arielle's patience only went so far. 

But the child only wanted to hide her rabbit, and the healer allowed it for now, just to ensure the girl would still feel comfortable with her. With Indra at Arielle's side again, she turned and started to walk. 

She was silent as they made their way to the altar. As they drew close, the scent of decay filled the air. It was pleased the bruin-heart just as it pleased the bear. 

The altar was a sight to see; the healer had worked hard gathering and sacrificing and arranging things; it was her faith given form. This was how she communicated with the spirit. The most noticeable thing about her work of art was the rotting coyote corpse draped carefully over the flat stone. They had killed it only a few days before. It was stiff with wide, staring eyes and a look of pain stuck on the creature's face. Globs of dried blood, turned dark from sitting so long in the air surrounded the sacrifices neck where it had spilled from a large gash where Arielle had ripped out its throat. It all fit so well with the bones, skulls, and elder that was gathered around the carcass. 

The bruin-heart stared at the altar with pride for a moment before turning to Indra. Have you been told about the bear? she asked. No sense in wasting time going over what she already knew.