Bearclaw Valley [m] go back to sleep

*laughs in instant reply* i'm so sorry twin

sobeille stood still as athalia's interest grew. she could tell by the way the girl looked at her - how she prowled close in the languid manner of a jungle cat. it enlivened the fur along sobeille's back -- it exhilarated her blood.

for the briefest moment they are nearly touching -- two bodies connected by an electrical exchange of information. sobeille drank in the girl's scent of red pine and forest -- of the meat on her breath, of the wilderness -- and in turn, athalia likely sensed the salt still under sobeille's skin, and the sour smell of near starvation.

she was almost sad when athalia pulled away.

yes, de bones speak. she recalled how the moonwomen were free and generous with their knowledge. how her entire world had been built on the backs of strong women, who openly shared their hearts and homes. she would do the same for athalia.

it takes practice. see - she spilled the contents of the sack, pushing the bones towards the girl. they must be bones of power. you know dis by listening -- close your mind to all thoughts, just breathe --

the girl continued prattling on the thousand little lessons she had learned; from sialuk, from kukutux, and from her own trial and error -- how she had captured and killed things purely for their bones -- eager to finally expose a part of her that she knew better than to share in sapphique.