An offering of thanks

A panther in the night, a fire burning bright. Ray's eyes widened in shock. She had not been expecting a reply. But her offerings had been accepted and given the nostalgia and peace she now felt, she assumed that the gifts were appreciated. Or at the very least, mildly liked. Ray wasn't sure who or what had accepted the offerings however. What deity or spirit was associated with cinnamon? Regardless, Ray had said her piece and given her thanks. She stood up and dusted off her pants. Giving one last bow to the alter she stood up. "Thank you." Ray said once more and took her leave from the shrine . r a y The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion. —Albert Camus