Grishia was on an Adventure.
And that meant, as per her mother's careful instructions, she was within sight and hearing of the den. Omen was somewhere up above, keeping an eye on her; only one, because that's all the bird had. But Grishia didn't see her mother, now. She was plodding around among the bones, poking them here and there, a little bored.
The staff she carried--with its sickle of moonstone, and its bones and antlers and ribbons and teeth--was way too big for her. Its opalized ash glinted in the light, but she kept stumbling with it, almost falling, and accidentally dropping it or bumping on the rock. The stone in her chest, too, felt heavy. She didn't know that's what was there; she just knew there was a weight inside her that was way too big for her size. Maybe she'd grow into it, but for now she was pausing now and then to catch her breath.
The upright, sooty colored cub poked a bone with her foot, and squinted at it. Her other bone golem hadn't woken up when she did, this morning. She'd made it, then slept, and it hadn't woken up. Her mom had said it needed more rest, but Grishia--bored--pointed at another skeleton she'd sort of, mostly assembled. It was missing pieces. But it looked like it'd maybe been a squirrel, and she cried tiny orders at it, squinting with focus as she pointed a black claw.
Nothing happened, and the child stood there for a moment, expression wrinkled in focus with one hand extended out. Then she sighed--a big huff--and plopped down on her rump, staring at the bones and wondering where she'd gone wrong.
@Kerberos