Blackfeather Woods Rust to rust

Her Shadow was startled as easily as she was, and though the past had proven that being with the two of them did not give any guarantees, the spirit felt safer than on her own entirely. She looked upon him and waited for him to move. He did not seem hostile, instead asking for the listener.

While the caretaker had never been a listener to the spirit, she understood his words. He was looking for the caretaker. The pale youth turned back towards the altar, put her front paws up on it and nudged the pelvis bone. Here, she shared. She did not know if he had been enemy or friend to the caretaker, but she supposed it mattered little now that she had gone back to the spirit realm.