Wicker watched, his only further speech a murmured "I WILL REMEMBER. HIDDENITE," in response. But it was barely a whisper, his rapt gaze fixed on the dying dog.

The progression of necrotizing flesh was watched with wonder. The crystallization afterward, with awe. It was a perfect creation. It was flawless, beautiful. Hiddenite's soft acceptance was even moreso, like the wilting of a wondrous flower. Ephemeral beauty... here, then gone, its very transience lending it its artistry.

He stayed, for a time, long past the point where the body had ceased to move, and beyond the point, too, where the disease stalled out after its host had faltered and failed. He observed, lost in poetic thoughts, content in the magic of this world. At last he pushed up, then stepped away, stepping quietly as though in a library or a graveyard. He did not wish to disturb the peace that had settled, here.

Wicker didn't touch the gemstone. It was part of the scene, the perfect arrangement in an echo of tragedy, and it was beloved it as it was. Let another find it, to marvel at what had passed.

He left quietly, remembering, lost in his own thoughts.

exit Wicker

The scene that Erasmus found was eerie and entirely disconcerting. Slowly turning to oil was a crystalline canine. Yet, part of his fur was still left. They suspected that the crystalline effect was not natural, but instead the cause of the death.

Though the body was rotting, it was undoubtedly a greater gembound. It felt wrong to leave its stone here, for one that knew not its form to find. But Erasmus knew nothing of this gembound either. Yet, their heart went out to this dead being.

Gently, with a great sadness, Erasmus extracted the stone. They could no longer harm this gembound, so they feared not to extract, but they were careful out of respect.

They clutched the small amount of hiddenite in their hand. Erasmus would bring it to Alek, they decided. He would know what to do.

But... first... they tentatively reached their magic out to the body, trying to gain insight into this being. Perhaps a name or a scene from its life.

There was a puppy trying to growl, a scheme of chaos of a cave that Erasmus had never seen. The puppy growled, trying to brace itself for the attack, only for a creature of odd shape to move in front of it and tell him to hide.

Was this a fighter of some group, perhaps, they wondered as the vision faded it? Yet... There was no true sign of a fight here, so maybe not. Erasmus was not sure what had happened here at all. Now, they held the hiddenite stone close, remembering the puppy it once was, who must have had someone who cared enough to tell him to hide.

They sorrowed, even if they did not know this being.

[Exit Erasmus]