Stone Circle defeat the stymphalian birds

“The stones,” she amends.

“I suggest you watch your back, oracle,” she teases as she steps towards him, sweeping her own nose to gaze upon the tallest of them.

“Incredible, aren’t they?” Her voice keeps light but comes earnest now. “There are hundreds of generations buried here, beneath our paws.” She is thoughtful for a moment.

“Suppose you could read my fate, then, if we dug them up?” Her head lists in question. She is not a wolf of faith, or at least, she is mostly convinced religions exist to help cope with death. Surely transcendence such as prophecies were mere coincidence; fates spun from chance. But all this did not quell her intrigue of this soothsayer- if she had a future to be read then she wanted to know it.