Stone Circle defeat the stymphalian birds

her interest seems genuine enough, though whether there was truth to ingram's assumption in regards to her interest or not ... he didn't really care. she had asked and ingram, after months of avoiding the low spiritual hum of the threadbones was willing enough to read for her.

ingram's ears flutter back at the sound of her following footfalls; he is quiet as they walk. here. he announces when they near the place he'd tucked them away. he slips into the shadows of the thick bush, nudging away the prickling thin branches to shove his snout into the hole and grasp the weathered rabbit fur bundle.

the dried bones inside clack together as he pulls them, the bundle swinging from betwixt his jaws as he turns to face her.

seaglass blue gaze focuses upon her; steady. he moves nearer and drops the bundle to the ground, the soft hide unfurling, bones scattering.

his gaze zeroes down on the placement of the bones, as if scattered by the teeth of the commanders of the past. as always, his own personal bit of hell, perhaps, his gaze is drawn to his mother's ribbone. the strongest of the bones that call to him, tied by shared blood.

it is so easy — too easy — to let the world 'round them drop out of focus until there is nothing but him, the whispering bones and the tendrils of fate, intricately weaved and too easily snipped. knotted. the path easily diverted.

the four of ribs, his muzzle brushes over praimfaya's rib bone. it whispers of the tendency to take something or someone for granted. it speaks of apathy. he turns to the next bone: the megaldon tooth. the mage whispers of willpower. it speaks of true potential. that you have reached or are still reaching it. the last, the bird skull. the bird knight whispers of assertiveness. too easily, this bone speaks of negative traits.

it was not, ingram is sure, what she was looking for. she'd asked for a glimpse of the future but ingram could only read the threadbones ... and they were not always so clear cut. not always offering dreams ( or nightmares ) that would solidify what he read.

the threadbones ... they're fickle. sometimes they offer glimpses of a possible future ... and others they offer inward glimpses. rarely, do they give what you want.