Flashback Heaven Hath No Rage...

[Razkar]

"I do not...at least not much. I know that one... draws out the spirit of the dead, or something, taking the power of.... That's all I got."

Razkar smirked back, nodding slowly with his eyebrows at the top of his head. Magic was not something Myrians often practiced, at least not as much as other races. But the Power of Bones was intrinsic and curiously natural to their culture. Their enemies were consumed and devoured, jointed and their bones used in decorations, piercings, ornaments, tools... how natural would it be to then draw the strength and djed from those departed slain?

"Very succinct and pretty accurate, Wolf. You carve runes, words or symbols onto bones. Sometimes all three. You carve them within circles that..." he frowned, remembering back and back to Mayla's fetid, bone-lined hut, where he'd listened to her mumbling chants and watched her ancient, steady hands carve those circles "... bind the power, I think. I've only done it once. She said that the words... call up the aspects of the bone's djed. The person or thing it belonged to, I mean. Then you seal the ritual with your own blood, on each circle and..."

His words trailed off to nothing, and Wolf looked at him with a frown. His eyes seemed glazed, almost... pained. He was remembering. Thinking back and unconsciously stroking the thigh bone that served as the hilt of his gladius. Even wounded and recovered, even surrounded by his clan, the idea of a Myrian warrior walking (or hobbling) around without a weapon was anathema.

She was glad he did. It seemed to calm him.

"Then the spirit returns. You must tame it, because... because it's angry. Furious." His dark eyes flashed to hers. "And it remembers the one that killed it. You tame it, and the power is yours. That is... the basics of it."

"I have always wanted to tamper with magic..."

Razkar snorted, some measure of condescension in the gesture, despite his efforts. "You do not tamper with it, or it will tamper with you. You practice it, and in my case, you do so with someone who knows what they're doing. That's why I'll be working its power with her present."

Wolf's eyes held a question and Razkar snorted again, cocking an eyebrow.

"Who is she? Do you even need to ask?"

Now it was Wolf's turn to snort, not needing any more description or exposition. The moment she'd laid eyes on Mayla, she knew what she was. Or what she had within her, more accurately. A cold, calculating intelligence that would not be out of place within a Dhani, and a knowledge of the dark djed that could bind souls to their earthly remains.

"What do you plan on doing with it?"

Razkar paused a few moments, forming his words carefully. "I was thinking about a headdress. Or helmet. Out of the skull. Whatever I can have to fit. I'll need to treat it tomorrow, get the muscle and gristle off, then we can take it to Mayla."

He turned to a silent Wolf, and found not just surprise but a question there as well. He smiled thinly.

"If you wish to join me, that is. There is no requirement. The thing with the Power of Bones, is that only experienced witches like Mayla can do it on... thinking creatures. Higher intelligences, you might say, like Myrian or Dhani or human. Those like me? Pah... I'd just end up getting my soul and my sanity drained dry, and I have no desire to lose either. So, she will sit in. For a price of course..."

He sighed, shaking his head and remembering the last pact he made with that female. But then he smiled, radiant and honest... and Wolf realized he was thinking of Aya.

Still, could have been worse, tracking down that tiger. I met her out of it.

"Rest." He said finally, turning away from Ruwama's longhouse and starting the walk back to his family's. "I will do the same. See you tonight."

When Rzkar got back he found Oxil in the doorway... with a faintly bemused and cooing pigeon quite placid in his hands. Razkar inhaled briefly and straightened up.

"Word from Taloba."

Not a question; a statement. Oxil nodded anyway, and followed his Fang Leader inside.

[Tinnok]

She smiled as he spoke, explaining to her the way of bones, smirked at his features at the way he stomped upon her passing comment. Perhaps his injuries made him ornery. Normally she would have retorted, but there was no need, nothing he said was wrong, at least as far as she could tell. Her curiosity was piqued as he described that he relied on Mayla. It would be of no surprise to her that the old woman possessed the power of bones, and perhaps she was the only entity in the Shorn Skulls that would view Tinnok with even eyes, as Razkar did. Though Tinnok did not know much about Magic, she knew that it worked as a great equalizer, a power that transcended regular life in a way. Those that mastered it also took a different perspective on the world around them...perhaps one of the reasons the old shamaness had given the half breed a chance in the first place.

"Yes...I'll see you tonight." Tinnok gave a slight wave, thoughts of watching this strange process of bones unfolding upon the morrow unfolding in her head as she limped back to her little room. Her legs collapsed beneath her as she entered the makeshift room, energy sapped, and she crawled slowly across the floor, dragging her weight upon the cot and collapsing into a restless slumber.

She dreamt of hunts. Myrians chasing her down, the witch living in the crooks of trees, and it always seemed to be raining...she could feel her heart beat in her chest, hearing dogs howling, Myrian curses and bird calls echoing throughout the canopy. Every day was torture, every moment panic. And then she felt the shuddering thunk of an arrow in her chest, dark glistening eyes looking proudly from beneath her as the abominations lifeless body fell from the trees.

Her eyelids fluttered open. She felt like she had fallen a sleep a mere instant ago, but the position of the sun had clearly changed drastically. Not yet set, but getting there swiftly. Her body felt no less tired than before, but now her stomach hungered once again. Perhaps that feast wasn't such a bad idea after all...

Slowly, and just as arduously as before she drew herself up into a seated position, and Tinnok rose, only a bit more confidant than before. She remembered Razkar being on crutches, and grabbed her own from the wall, relieved at the fact she could put her weight on something than her own body.

And slowly she made her way from the small hut, limping across shadowed grass, the smell of brunt wood and incense filled smoke filling her nostrils. She found the majority of the clan seated around a blazing fire, the contents of the Dhani already roasting upon it. She wondered if it was truly wise to eat such a malformed abomination as that, but wouldn't argue, after all...she was a strange sort of guest in the Shorn Skull's employ...at least until she was better.

It didn't take long to pick the Eagle out with his matching set of bandages, and she gave the smallest of waves before plopping herself down upon a hewn wooden bench, her muscles relieved to know they would have to do no further work until she need to rise again. Eyes shaded by the growing shadows peeked her way, but the abomination was far beyond caring. She would eat the meat of her half brethren, and rejoice in her own quiet way along with these pure bloods, making her way along as soon as she could. both her and the clan would be the better for it.

[Razkar]

The feast had a taste of victory and vengeance to it, which certainly improved the flavor of the meat. Razkar had to admit, though, the monster was as tough roasted as it was living. No matter what herbs and spices it was treated with, he still had to rip and tear gamey chunks off his hunk of dripping meat and chew for an age before it went down.

Not even making it easy for us in death, he thought wryly, washing down the latest mouthful with some palm wine. How very Dhani...

He relaxed on the bench along with the rest of his fang flanking him, Oxil and Zuran his left and right hands. They had pride of place among the crowd of Shorn Skulls that night, right before the bonfire, the Elders of the clan arrayed around the rest of it. Already dancers had cavorted and pranced and honors had been given to him by Lowax and his father.

Razkar had swelled, but deflated almost immediately after. Wolf was not mentioned. Not even in passing, and didn't that just sour the meat even more...

"You wrote a reply to Taloba?"

Oxil took a moment to realize that he was being addressed, turning to find his Fang Leader staring at the decimated, eviscerated, blackened and almost-bare carcass writ large by the long bonfire underneath it. Most of the meat had ben hacked off, leaving just strands sizzling or burning... apart from the head. That was blackened and the flesh had sloughed off it.

Oxil thought it was just the shadows from the fire, but he thought Razkar was smiling at it.

"S-Sorry, Raz?"

"The message. The bird. You wrote a reply?"

"I told them the mission was accomplished but the Fang Leader had been injured, requiring us to wait while he recuperated before we returned."

Razkar nodded sharply, hearing everything he needed to. Unlike their slow progress, the pigeon would need only a day, if that, to get back to Taloba and bring news of their victory. He wondered if Wolf would even get a-

"Did you mention Tinnok?"

Oxil's stilted reply told him everything. "W-What?"

The Fang Leader's jaw tightened and the hint of a grimace marred his features. But still a bitter smile took root along his mouth and he snorted, sucking down more wine.

"I didn't think so."

"Raz, I-"

"That'll do, Ox. Enjoy the meat."

"I am trying."

Well, that at least got a chuckle from him, which was a start. The Fang Leader had been distracted and distant enough recently. Oxil had dared hope that slaughtering a Dhani would help matters, but ever since he'd been recovering his mood had only seemed to sour.

The big Myrian shot a glare at the swaddled figure sitting apart from the rest. Petching half-breed. He'd bet that she was the one behind his mood. Abominations like that, they always got under a Myrian's skin. He ripped another mouthful off his handful of rib and kept up his glare as his teeth ground it down...

A curse of particular venom burst from Razkar's lips a few chimes later and he was on his feet in a blink. Oxil just stared in shock as Razkar stalked over to the beast, then used his own dagger to hack off a nice chunk of rump, sizzling on the plate made from a dried palm leaf. His movements were angry, quick and so was his gait when he stalked past his watching clan members.

"Have our manners degraded so much since last I left?"

Even Lowax was stunned into silence by that, watching as the Fang Leader and son of the Shorn Skulls walked over the that petching abomination and placed the plate next to her wounded form, her mouth agape.

Razkar knew to handle this carefully, though. His words and his posture, the gesture itself, were enough. He didn't need to play it up, and simply nodded politely, making sure his voice carried but did not boom.

"You clearly cannot get to the bonfire with ease, so here is your rightful fill of the feast. I am sure-" he said pointedly, flicking a glance at one of his younger cousins nearby "-that at some point, some wine would be provided. Enjoy your meal, Tinnok of the Tempered Steel."

The walk back was subdued. The wind instruments and drums had mostly stopped but at Razkar's scowl they fearfully started again. Idiot. Petching idiot. This was that damned clearing all over again, when his stupid, headstrong bullshit with Ioxera and Rehkuna only made things worse. But he couldn't help it; couldn't stop it.

It wasn't fair.

No, he reminded himself yet again, and gritted his teeth until they hurt, it's Falyndar. It's Myrians. Get used to it.

He looked around the bonfire and saw faces either surprised or insulted or even avoiding him... save one. Dark, twinkling eyes that regarded him with interest, even amusement. She, too, sat off to one side, not out of disdain but a sort of fear-mingled reverence. Mayla gave him the tiniest nod and took another small bite. She needed to chew for a while, anyway: half her teeth were from the bones of other... things.

The night wore on. His outburst was glossed over or forgotten, he did not care which. He knew better than to sit by Wolf, though he wished to, knowing his place was by the bonfire with his fang-mates and his Elders. Sheema and his father were nearby towards the end, talking with him easily enough about the hunting that had become more difficult, thanks to the Storm. His brother Jakuo was hauled up onto his knee and Razkar regaled him about his titanic battle with the monster.

Well, perhaps not titanic, but when you're a small child looking up at your giant sibling, all fights are gargantuan.

"Razkar?" Lowax's firm, authoritative voice rang out and immediately the male rose. "The best is near done, and it was your hand that ended it and restored peace to our clan lands. What is your will for what is left?"

Razkar got to his feet, putting Jakuo gently to one side... and slowly unsheathed his gladius. Standing still before the carcass, he seemed to ponder deeply, glaring into those empty eye sockets, jelly having long since burned away, ditto flesh and muscle and fat, leaving a stained skull-

-which he hacked off at the neck with one sweeping blow from his weapon.

"I claim the head of the monster." He shouted over the suddenly-silent gathering, raising the head high even as it scorched his hand. "For whatever means I desire. The rest... I bequeath to Honored Elder Mayla..."

He gestured to the crone, who looked surprised for a moment... and then her face settled into its familiar tone of neutrality, tinged with amusement. She had been in this situation many times before, once even with him personally, and she knew that nothing was every bequeathed to her.

The bones of the Dhani were simply an advance for services to be rendered. And she knew exactly what they would be...

"I accept with pride and gratitude, Fang Leader." She said, voice oddly high as she raised it to be heard by all. It certainly didn't match her forbidding appearance. "I can do much good with such a prize."

Razkar favored her with a knowing smile.

"Of that, Honored Elder, I am sure..."

[Tinnok]

Tinnok took one bite of the meat and was finished with it. Aside from the bizarre taste, imagining the way it's scales peeled off, and its shriveled arm turned the normally hardy warrior's stomach into a knot that would accept no more meat. She was glad to see the clan was willing to gloss over Razkar's comment and return to their feast. She may have aided, but she was just a shadow here, and she would pass from their memories as all but an unpleasant addition to their hunt.

So when a young hand offered her a wooden cup filled with wine, and a leaf covered with quinoa and fruits, Tinnok looked up with surprise and happiness in equal measure. It was a young male, not from the hunt, too young for that, but getting there judging upon the stubble on his chin, and the hardened look to his eyes. He sat down beside her, and Tinnok's surprise only grew. "My mother says you did our clan a great service this day."

Tinnok took a sip of the sweet wine, smiling at the lovely beverage, and glanced at him. "Not many would see it that way."

He lowered his head seriously. "It is why she does not come herself, but she wishes to offer her thanks. Razkar is a strong and capable fang leader, but they wouldn't have found the creature without you." Every word was whispered and low, but Tinnok's lips twitched comfortably. It was nice to surprised every now and then. Her fingers scooped up the round balls of Quinoa, glad to have a grain in her mouth and not that...meat.

"I offer my thanks, for your mother's gesture, you do not have to sit with me any longer, boy, I know what that will do." She saw him hover with an answer, almost on the verge of arguing her point...but then he rose and left with the slightest inclination of his head.

Tinnok ate the rest of her meal in silence and shadows, looking from the outside in upon the natural gears of a clan.

At some point, however, after the Eagle had offered the bones to Mayla, she felt eyes upon her. Scanning the assembled clan casually, she caught the dark gaze of the ancient witch, and locked eyes with her. It was a tense moment, extended, to stare down the face of a woman who was used to getting the fear and respect she had come to earn, glaring into the eyes of a half breed who had had little or both with even less to come.

Tinnok, not surprisingly, blinked first, but when she did so she saw the slightest of smiles on the old crone's face...and after a long moment an old and bony hand gestured to the half breed. Tinnok was up as if she had been pulled by strings, plate finished, a bit of wine sloshing in her cup as she made her way to sit by the elder...also alone.

Neither of them spoke to one another, and apart from the first contest of wills, did not even look at each other. But her time beside the old crone was some of her most comfortable there in the clan, and a small smile alighted her face: She liked this woman.

[Razkar]

"Well, dip me in dung and throw me to the weevils..."

Razkar had to say, he agreed with Zuran's breathless statement. Or would, if he had the power to speak. Like the rest, he just stared in surprise as Wolf wound her way through the shadows and sat down next to Mayla. A brief moment of acknowledgement between the two females, and then... nothing. They seemed to be ignoring each other.

But there they sat, without a shred of animosity between them.

The Fang Leader narrowed his eyes a touch, surprised but... suspicious. Despite the lesson his mother had to beat into him years before, he still did not trust the ancient crone. She had served their clan for three lifetimes, or looked like it, true, but... she just set his teeth on edge. She never did anything without payment or favor, and he sensed a hunger for power and yet more power that could corrupt even the most virtuous intent.

He drained his wine and decided it would be his final cup for the evening, planting the empty bone receptacle on the severed and skinless head sitting next to him.

Razkar would keep an eye on the witches tonight.

Of course, that made for a somewhat tedious remainder of the evening, but fortunately, it was nearly at an end. Sated and bloated with palm wine and the meat of their hated enemy, the Shorn Skulls began to totter off in small groups or in families, most stopping by the front benches to pay their respects, and give their thanks...

... including Razkar's aunt Exuli.

"Honored Aunt," he said softly, embracing the woman with black ashes still riven into her cheeks, "I am sorry about Arken. He was a good male." He shook his head, hating the words and his tone. "I know my words mean nothing and ease even less, but... I hope that-"

"Raz, stop stumbling over your words. You always did that."

There was the aunt he remembered, and Razkar smiled at the memory, at the sudden... control, she suddenly had in her eyes. How more helpless could a parent feel, after all, than knowing their child died and they were not there to save them? Her other son, K'rea, stood proud and almost at attention before his cousin.

"And this young male is fast becoming a warrior, I see."

"Only four more years before I may leave for Taloba," the male said with a smile, "And I may follow in your footsteps and-"

"Not too closely, cousin," Razkar said with a smile, tapping his lame leg and then wishing he hadn't, "My footsteps have become more dangerous of late. I would not wish my kin to suffer my foolishness."

Exuli chuckled but the boy clearly didn't know whether the older male was mocking him or joking, so eventually he just smiled. Razkar stood and gripped the younger man wrist-to-wrist, like warriors.

"Go well, cousin."

"You too, Razkar..." A long, strange pause, and Razkar cocked his head, opening his mouth just as K'rea spoke again, voice nearly a whisper "... you're friend... she seems nice enough. A shame she is an abomination."

Razkar was silent, and Exuli felt a tremor of tension from his expression. But eventually the male just sighed and gave a wry half-smile.

"We are all as the Goddess-Queen wishes, cousin. Her plans are... often difficult to understand. But Tinnok is a fine warrior and a loyal Child of Myri. Never doubt that... and thank you for having the courage to be kind where others would simply ignore her."

He bowed as if honored, which he was, and K'rea's mouth just worked like a fish over and over. Exuli bowed her head to hide her smile, and wondered if Razkar would figure out if it was she who sent his cousin, her son, to make nice with the abomination. After all, she had been the key in avenging her son.

Maybe. She doubted it. Razkar was growing into a fine, wise male, but as far as insight went... well, he had a ways to go.

They left soon after, and Razkar decided he would do the same. The crowd began to thin, his own Fang was shuffling away in that weary way soldiers the multiverse over did, slumped of shoulder but still quick of eye... and Eagle turned to Wolf one last time.

But she was gone.

[Tinnok]

Tinnok learned in the next few days that Mayla had a sort of snake in her blood. Not born from any relation to Dhani of course, Goddess no. But a searching hunger, for power, for knowledge, to have the upper hand in any and all situations that spoke of serpentine descent. Perhaps Tinnok did not immediately notice for it was a part of her that shamed her being to the very core, but the Myrian, the snake, they both made up what she was, and she had come to accept that in a very reserved way.

But she had not learned this yet, not when a surprisingly firm grip alighted upon her wrist as the clan separated for the evening. Dark eyes, like obsidian slivers gazed up at her with the mischievous intent of a child. "Come, snake, let us see what the bones think of you."

Tinnok was helpless to argue, despite the fact that the hand disappeared from her arm after that first instant. Yellow eyes gazed steadily backwards towards the Eagle, who seemed to be discussing something with a female and her son. Ach, he wouldn't miss her anyway, right?

And so she went with the strange old woman into the darkness down a path Mayla knew well. Strange that when you were that old, that strong in a way a body could not show...some things did not matter. Like this strange abomination, somehow alive and gone through every rite save Myri's mark that Taloba could put one through. Now that was a feat, yet her people looked upon her with disgust? Clearly this creature was a powerful tool, and not a monster...or perhaps a little of both. Mayla smiled at the insight and led Tinnok through a curtain of bones into her parlor....as it were.

A couple black candles seated atop skulls were lit, giving the pair just enough light, and Mayla sat on one side of a table...made from Tskanna thigh bones, gesturing Tinnok to take a seat upon the other. The old woman reached out a hand, and Tinnok offered hers. Mayla turned the appendage face down, admiring the scales for a moment, before turning it palm up and stabbing the center with her thumb nail. Tinnok grimaced in shock, pulling her hand away as if she had just been shocked. "Petching shyke, woman, what in Dira's name are you doing?"

It may have been a disrespectful request of such a powerful old hag, but Tinnok didn't much care. Mayla herself did not reply, only licked the crimson liquid off of her finger. Tinnok held her crutch a little closer to herself. The crone smiled. "You harbor power within you, yet you do not touch it, out of fear...or perhaps simple laziness." Tinnok's eyebrow perked questioningly, for the words were said with a bluntness that implied uncaring. "Do you seek knowledge of the bones, snake?"

Tinnok shook her head. "I do not. I wish for my power to come from within, not from the trophies of the dead."

"An idea both noble and naive. If you are given a resource to aid you, is it not wise to take it?"

The half breed shrugged. "No enemy of mine gave themselves up to me willingly."

The crone chuckled. "You skirt the question, but I understand your meaning. You do not want others, even the dead to help prove your own worth, worth which you have fought for every step of the way..." Tinnok's eyes widened slightly and Mayla laughed, a lovely cackle that scratched the ears. "Snake, you are an open tome for any of those with eyes enough to see, do not pretend like you keep yourself so well."

"But it seems you do not seek the skills I have to offer...curious. Drenched in your own ignorance, yet on the cusp of discovering your true self, what a fine story your life is turning out to be." Tinnok was beginning to feel more than a little uncomfortable. It seemed this woman knew the ins and outs of her, her personality, her weaknesses. Despite what she said about the abomination being an open book, she refused to think it was that easy. Or perhaps Mayla was right, and no one saw because barely anyone tried to look deeper than the surface of slitted eyes and faintly scaled skin.

Regardless, she was much too weary for something like this tonight. "You said bones...what the bones thought of me."

Mayla nodded, smiling. "Ah yes." Reachign over to one of the many thickly covered shelves she removed a leather pouch, shook it a few times, and then poured the contents onto the table. Tinnok recognized the contents as bone guides, runes carved into knuckles, toes, teeth and joints, or even carved down from larger sections of body. These ones all looked like...canines from something, though Tinnok dare not guess what. They were fairly large, and the symbols writ upon them were truly fantastic in detail and depth of carving, created by a master of his or her craft.

Mayla poured over them a moment, eyes lighting up just like before, and when her voice spoke...it was not quite the same, as if the crone she had come to know in their short time together was off in a different land, speaking words through one place and into this one. "The bones see death and suffering, but these are things from the past, the storm. They see an entity removed and to the side...you, the abomination which watches over all. A passage of time marks a long travel, it will not be you going, but others. Strange needling problems, rising up from the depths and assailing you, testing your will, your faith. Your trials have only just begun."

And then the candles flickered, and the woman was back. Tinnok felt strange and Mayla's face was back to that strange apathy it seemed to hold, like a wrinkly stone. "So say the bones."

"So say the bones." Tinnok repeated, somewhat softly. She slowly rose from her chair, leaning heavily upon the crutch. "Thank you for the reading mistress...it...it has been an honor."

"We will meet on the morrow. The boy will want his bones to speak to him, learn their power." Tinnok knew she meant Razkar. She nodded her head, bowing her body out respect, than left the tent, barely getting a few yards before she froze in the gaze of the Eagle's stare not too far away...waiting.

Why did she feel like a child caught in some horrible act? She gestured with a thumb to the strange hut, lips twitching nervously. "She's a hoot that Mayla."

[Razkar]

"She's a hoot that Mayla." The words did not have the effect she desired. In fact, they had apparently no effect. The male's stern stare did not waver an inch... except when it flickered over her shoulder, as if expecting Mayla to materialize like some dark cloud from behind his friend. And then he started walking, with difficulty, his fellow invalid beside him. "I figured you would be talking with Mayla," he said eventually, and she caught the terse tone in his voice immediately. "Take care around her, Wolf. Her power is great, but so is her ambition." She bristled. Not as obviously or fiercely as other females he knew, with that petulant indigence that was like a roaring tiger. No... this was the slow, killing anger of a roused snake, and yet, he did not rise to it. He simply turned to her with that same stony expression. "There is something Ayatah told me, from an ancient scholar. Take care, for when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you. Heed those words, my friend, for Mayla is a sort of abyss. As is her power. I would not have you become as twisted and absorbed as she." Wolf opened her mouth and he waved up a quick and urgent hand, words almost growled "I care not for what passed between you! Such things are best kept between you and her. In fact, sharing them is a dangerous proposition." They stopped outside his longhouse and he could feel the tension crackling from her, vaguely insulted yellow eyes flashing up at him like a disturbed viper. Razkar shifted his jaw slightly and used the shadows to his advantage... by reaching out and grasping her shoulder. "I am not your guardian, or your parent. I am your friend. That gives me the license to say what I damn well must to watch your back. I will see you in the morning, Wolf." He did, and the dawn could not have come fast enough for him. Pain-induced nightmare dogged him like hounds after a fox, no matter how far and fast he tried to evade them. Misshapen eyes laughing at him over the gasping corpse of one he had failed. An army of ghosts, naked and without arms in the next world, demanding in dead whispers why he did not save them, why he was not at the blockade? A child... why was there a child... why did he seem so familiar... and so sad... and so lost... Razkar's eyes snapped open and he feared to even blink. But reality poured into his senses and he had to bite back a whimper of relief. Sleep was so... unsatisfying, nowadays. It provided no safety or respite. Enough maudlin, he chided himself, swinging... fine, make that awkwardly maneuvering... his body off the bed, we have a trying day ahead. After a few chimes of cursing and sweating, he managed to force his stiff body into a loincloth and his weapons belt. The crutch was still a necessity, but he was happy to find much more firmness in his wounded right leg. Another two days... maybe three... and they could go. The male walked to the door and bent down to pick up his trophy. Larger than his own head, oddly twisted around the eyes like the deformed and marred flesh around it. It was still blackened and smoke-burned, but after a patient bell of scraping and beeling, naught but bone was left. The Dhani skull. His raw material. He smiled down at it, but anyone watching (well, anyone who wasn't Myrian) would not have described it as that. Razkar picked it up with his free hand and went to find Tinnok.[/color]

[Tinnok]

She wanted to scream at him, but even thinking about such an action took more energy than she had at the time. Accuse of her of becoming like that old hag? Well, no that wasn’t it at all, was it? He just didn’t want her walking down the same road, and there was little chance of that, wasn’t there?

She muttered something close to a goodbye and hobbled to her strange little shack, body collapsing of its own accord as she entered the doorway. It had still been too much for her to handle. She groaned, slowly sliding her body in through the thin curtain and dragging herself weakly to the cot, collapsing into exhaustion the second her face rested upon the cloth that served as a rest for the head.

She dreamt of screams and blood, of her own clawed hands ripping out the hearts of those she cared for, and Rekhuna’s biting words in the last moments of her life, knowing that her mistrust in the abomination had been right all along. She felt the rough dry tongue of the monster brush along her face, whispering slithering secrets into her ear. She heard the pumping of hearts, felt blood fill her mouth and spill out onto the ground, and shook with pain to feel her stomach burst open, an unconcerned Ruwama telling her ‘I told you so.’ As her stomach burst open, spilling out even more blood, clogging the floor and dripping through the cracks in between boards.

She saw eyes bore into her. ”If I had any sense…I would make you abandon our clan name, witch, you have barely proved worthy of carrying it.” Her mother had not taken it from her, yet the statement meant uttering it was a chore in and of itself, something to be shamed of, that she only had it out of pity.

She watched the earth rot away beneath her fingers, felt the pain of the land sear up in her Gnosis mark, and saw glowing eyes of her disappointed Goddess hanging above her, stripping away the mark upon her flesh….so that all she felt was emptiness.

And that was when she shot up, only to curse and lie back down, head throbbing from the sudden movement. Her entire body commanded her to remain in bed and return to sleep, but as stubborn as ever, Tinnok refused to listen. She attempted to stand up without aid of the crutch, only to collapse neither for the first nor last time upon her knees. Prying herself with the aid of the stick, she only bound a single dagger to her waist, not willing to bear anymore unnecessary weight.

As she emerged from the hut, eyes squinting painfully because of the light, she noticed a fellow limping form making his way towards her, polished and shining skull in his hand.

Shading her yellow eyes she greeted the Eagle with a tired grunt. She wasn’t going to forgive him so easily for lording over her like a strange paternal figure the previous night. She may not have seen him as others female, but there was only so much a prideful creature like her could take. ”To Mayla then?”

[Razkar]

”To Mayla then?”

Oh, wonderful. She's in a mood.

Razkar's lips curled into a tight grimace but he dared not push it anymore. Just because she was limping did not mean she couldn't put his balls next to Syna if she wanted to. Besides, they both had more important things to worry about.

"Yes." He said, already walking away and trusting her to follow him, skull bumping against his leg with every few steps. "To Mayla."

He half-expected her to be waiting for them, and he was not disappointed. Sat outside her hut that rattled and jingled with the bones hewn into every surface, the cloaked figure was almost invisible, save for her wiry, dark arms... moving carefully and swiftly... gutting bird.

"Bright and early, I see," said a voice from under her cowl, not looking up from her precise butchery, "An admirable quality, Razkar... and friend."

Razkar kept his face studiously neutral, unwilling to give anything that this witch could use against him... though his mind did briefly question whether she meant that last word as friend to him, or friend to her.

"It is not polite to leave an Elder waiting."

"I did not know we had an appointment."

"Yes, you did."

That raised an amused chuckle, but it sounded more like the rustling of dried leaves. The cowl moved slightly and one gleam of an eye could be made out from the darkness under it.

"Perhaps. Why else would you gift me such a... prize, hmm? The skeleton of a Dhani... do you know how many bones that is, Razkar? Over five hundred. Granted, more than half of those are vertebrae, but still..."

Another chuckle, much slower, and wetter, as if... orgiastic. Razkar struggled to keep the unease from his face as that eye gleamed and glowed and danced with joy.

"Equivalent exchange, I think, for what I am to ask of you."

"Hmm... indeed."

The eye flickered to the skull in his hand, but not for long. The young male had an aptitude for the Power of Bones, but only a minor one. Trying to work that wyrd on such a cunning and sentient beast like the Dhani would overwhelm him in moments. No... for that, an experience practitioner was needed.

But all this, Mayla knew. That was not the mystery after all.

"And what part does friend play in this?"

"She wishes to observe and, frankly, I'd like to have someone next to me I can trust if the worst happens."

"Aside from me, of course?"

"Naturally."

Mayla's eye twitched minutely but she did not sense any further layers to that last word from the impudent young male. Ah, the young... so suspicious of the old and their ways. But did they not realize that one day, they would be old? They the ways of the young pups would make little sense to them, and they would be the ones reviled and relics and hoarders of ancient ways? A question for the scholars, perhaps...

Razkar had noticed that her hands did not stop moving. The bird's yellow feathers had been painted red as Mayla's own crimson talons ripped it open, dumping out organs into a bowl... but apparently in some specific shape and order.

Now she looked into it... poking at something he assumed was a heart with her middle finger, the nail of it left long and sharp enough to open a man's throat... and then she grunted.

"You'd best come inside, then, male... and female."

No more invitation was offered, nor needed. Razkar had heard stories that without one, no mortal would be able to step over that threshold anyway. His arm reached out and swept aside the curtain over her door, still swinging and tinkling as she went through it, and his fingers felt the texture of innumerable tiny bones in the material.

Inside the hut it was eve more distinct. The cooking fire threw shadows and light around and it gleamed of countless shining white examples, built into everywhere...

Razkar briefly thought of the Scattered Bones compound, the crunching trail of white and yellowed bones that led the way to their longhouse. Even after centuries of tradition, would the have more than were in this single room? He honestly did not know.

"Sit, both of you," Mayla said bluntly, waving over her shoulder to the circular table in the middle of the hut, bustling around and digging for her tools, "And put it on the table."

[Tinnok]

She was glad for the distraction that was Mayla, for the witch presented a fascinating bit of insight into the elders of Myrian culture. She was like a strange wrinkled demi-god the power she seemed to hold upon her finger tips. She was not the matriarch of the clan, yet her advice was sought above all others, and...what was she doing with that bird?

Tinnok watch as she plucked out the miniscule heart and went into the tent, just as confused as Razkar was about exactly what the witch saw her as, perhaps an ally, or tool....or more logically, both. Regardless of what the old creature wanted the half breed for, she did not have that strange rude undertone underneath words addressed to her, and that would be enough for Tinnok, at least for now.

Stepping within she now got a much better view of the bones than the previous night, and her jaw dropped, requiring her to raise a bandaged arm to physically close it. Dhani, ape, bird, fish, deer, tiger, human and other creatures hung in parts or wholes from everywhere. Even beetle shells and the preserved remains of other insects sat in jars of strange colored fluid. Tinnok was amazed utterly and entirely, and wished she had a use for the bones of so many creatures that she could create a collection to rival it.

Then she came back to reality and half sat, half fell atop a stool that may have been the only thing in the room not made in its entirety from bones. Glancing down she wondered if Mayla had brought it in specifically for her, which made the half breed's lips twitch ever so slightly.

The skull was hefted onto the table. Despite the marred appearance of the Dhani, the skull itself looked rather pristine and whole, with no evidence of the trauma it's body had gone through in life. Tinnok did not know what Eagle planned to do with it precisely, but it would contain a fierce and acute amount of rage within that made a strange shiver shoot down her spine.

And now she would get to learn how one used the power of bones...Curious.