Blackfeather Woods i am—yet what I am none cares or knows;

She was integrating well into the religion, he felt, working her way up. Something had clicked, much like an awakening, and he wondered if it were similar to what he and the beast shared together. She would not be able to tell him, never be able to tell him, likely. He did not understand why she smiled at first but then it faded, yet thought little of it; he often smiled for the briefest of moments, for usually his face exuded little emotion.

Wordlessly he drew closer. He stopped closeby, head canting as his attention turned to the stone upon the altar. He cast it a questioning look, though guessed she must have brought it here for he had not seen it before.