Lion Head Mesa so intoxicated with the end

a soft question.

for a threadbone reading.

it's been some time since he's read them for anyone aside from himself.

a confession he made only to the altars: that he'd been avoiding them since they'd spelled out basilica's downfall.

their news over the past months had not been good. still, he carried them with him, hoping that Osiris might offer him better readings than the Void.

of course. ingram cannot say no. it plays into his obsession with them and his soft, almost paternal affection for the princess.

he leads the way to where he's stashed them. their new foxfur wrappings clutched tightly betwixt his jaws he gives his head a shake: dried bones rattling together within. to many, it might sound like a deathomen. to ingram, it is an haunting music. a tolling bell to Osiris.

he gingerly sets the wrappings down and nudges it open to reveal the bones; peering up from the bones to toula.