Jun 13 2015, 05:05 PM
((ooc -- this was a fortune-telling thread! If anyone in the future wants their fortune told, just make a thread for Giggle and poke me :3))
"I can see you."
The hyena grinned, flopping her rump down on the dull red-brown rock. She seemed to be speaking to the bones--the piles upon piles of bones just beneath the dipped-down roof where it nearly reached the floor in Canis's center.
This was where she had come to practice her magic some days ago, and now she had returned, pushing the bones here and there with her paw and snout, grinning at them.
"I know you're showing me..."
She pushed a bone again, tilting her head--then snatched one up, and clambered over and up a nearby boulder. Turning, the spotted hyena tossed it with her jaws, carefully, watching as it clattered into the pile--scattering ribs and vertebrae all over.
Then, she watched, carefully, picking out shapes and sizes with her dark gaze, intent on the bones. Dropping down from her place on the boulder, no longer grinning, she paced slowly around the bone pile.
There, those three ribs, there. I see ice. Stone. There is no growth, here--it is solid. Unchanging.
She drew closer, sniffing down, careful not to touch the ribs that speared upward toward her. And then she moved on, circling, circling...
Fire. Those, there--the hoof, and the vertebrae. It snapped into place and she saw flames as clear as if they burned before her. Changes had to be made--destruction, disruption, if the place was to grow. Else it would remain cold and bare as stone and bones.
Giggle giggled softly as she prowled, staring down. Still circling.
Antlers. A great stag's antlers. But what does this mean?
Oh, it meant protection--that she knew. But in what form? Giggle sat, staring down at the bones, pondering quietly the meaning of a stag's branched antlers. A strong offense and defense, intertwined? Readiness for battle? Or something more?
Giggle sat, alone, blind to all but the bones before her.
________________
Roll the bones.
The hyena grinned, flopping her rump down on the dull red-brown rock. She seemed to be speaking to the bones--the piles upon piles of bones just beneath the dipped-down roof where it nearly reached the floor in Canis's center.
This was where she had come to practice her magic some days ago, and now she had returned, pushing the bones here and there with her paw and snout, grinning at them.
She pushed a bone again, tilting her head--then snatched one up, and clambered over and up a nearby boulder. Turning, the spotted hyena tossed it with her jaws, carefully, watching as it clattered into the pile--scattering ribs and vertebrae all over.
Then, she watched, carefully, picking out shapes and sizes with her dark gaze, intent on the bones. Dropping down from her place on the boulder, no longer grinning, she paced slowly around the bone pile.
She drew closer, sniffing down, careful not to touch the ribs that speared upward toward her. And then she moved on, circling, circling...
Fire. Those, there--the hoof, and the vertebrae. It snapped into place and she saw flames as clear as if they burned before her. Changes had to be made--destruction, disruption, if the place was to grow. Else it would remain cold and bare as stone and bones.
Giggle giggled softly as she prowled, staring down. Still circling.
Oh, it meant protection--that she knew. But in what form? Giggle sat, staring down at the bones, pondering quietly the meaning of a stag's branched antlers. A strong offense and defense, intertwined? Readiness for battle? Or something more?
Giggle sat, alone, blind to all but the bones before her.
Roll the bones.