Bearclaw Valley a[m]plius lava me ab iniquitate mea

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: graphic description of organ removal

@Aventus @Arielle

in the practice of haruspicy, most vital is the correct handling of entrails

ursus was shaken, a great beast forced to limp and stumble. she could feel it, even without having set eyes upon the bear-prince's cracked crown.

the desired organ is revealed by carefully peeling back the layers encasing it

it reeked of weakness. in such cases one's faithfulness tends to rise, as mortals by nature turn to the divine when they feel cosmically wronged.

first, one should look for obvious irregularities, such as growths or unhealthy colour

but not in this case. the faith was wavering. 

then, the full organ is extracted from the body, as to allow for closer inspection from all angles

it infuriated her.

afterwards, it is precisely dissected for a clear internal view

she thought they'd know, her cousins by a starved cur begging by the first fire. that their minds would be unclouded, their beliefs pure. that they'd know.

finally, the organ is

the slick liver was crushed by teeth, blood seeping out like juice from a pomegranate.

for a moment, bernadette was stunned by her own lack of self-control, and froze, essence dripping down her chin, staring blankly ahead into the thickened evening shadows.

then she spat it out, the organ hitting the stone ground with a wet sound.

a hopeless rage was building up within the beardog; her bitter disappointment immense. the bruin-witch should've brought her closer to understanding the Powers, their meeting all but orchestrated by Them, this pack all but made for her.

the dog's nape bristled, stained teeth bared. she stood mere feet away from the thoroughly dissected corpse of the former starbone, @Stryx , the dead old woman's ribs gaped open to reveal the bounty of organs, all useful tools for divination if one knew how to handle them.

and bernadette knew. she'd studied, she'd learned, but somehow, somehow, she was still no closer than she was as a whining newborn whelp - if poor teachers haven't directed her farther away.

a doggish growl rose out the stilrift, soon followed by a snarl as the dogwoman tore into the days-dead corpse, all carefulness gone.