[Achilles stands, but Sieglinde crawls, weakened from the spell perhaps too large for what she's practiced for, the small flickering source of her own magic ALASTAIR had given her so many moons past. Knees and dress dust grey with ash, from tree and ox and dear friend, but she is heedless in her quest forward.
For bones, ones that had once had a face that she had known and begun to love. How could she not, when he had been so kind, and welcoming, and smiled as if he truly were a proud father at the party he had so carefully arranged for the day of her birth?
Not like the bones she had studied growing up, the human skeletons in wire frames and relic boxes.]
Fear not, Achilles... I know well the make of bones, man and beast.
[But despite her attempts to sound confident, to sound trustworthy for this momentous task... her heart still skips a beat, and her vision threatens again to blur, when her fingers curl around a cracked and burnt rib.
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For bones, ones that had once had a face that she had known and begun to love. How could she not, when he had been so kind, and welcoming, and smiled as if he truly were a proud father at the party he had so carefully arranged for the day of her birth?
Not like the bones she had studied growing up, the human skeletons in wire frames and relic boxes.]
Fear not, Achilles... I know well the make of bones, man and beast.
[But despite her attempts to sound confident, to sound trustworthy for this momentous task... her heart still skips a beat, and her vision threatens again to blur, when her fingers curl around a cracked and burnt rib.
Human rib.]