Luneshale Pass which door do we open?

a quill, a bluejay feather, and the fang of a mountain cat set composed in the dust before her. qiao motioned to her to’lang and cast the stones. 

for a long while she studied the language of their orientation. they told a story yet to unfold; new life breathing into these ancient and lifeless lands. 

a long exhale pressed from her nose as she turned to the sky limned with dusty rose and lavender. to the east, the burning eye of venus glared.