my ears can hear my mouth can speak my spirit talks my soul believes
The shaman indulges in a short pause, grateful for this person's help though not entirely amused by his take on rituals and the size of their components. Their gaze lifts toward the canopy with a sigh, catching sight of a nearby caroler as it buzzes lazily down toward them. Chaele's neutral expression cannot be seen, but perhaps it can be heard as they reply flatly, "I don't know.” The runic scars on their neck and shoulder, revealed as the mask rises with their gaze, wrinkle back into place as they meet Enzo’s eye. “Is there a traditional place where fey are laid?"
Perhaps it is the same beetle that Chaele had been watching before which now lowers onto a hanging branch between them. It chirps a simple little bridge as the Abandoned changes focus, immediately but carefully raising their hand toward it. With a few rasped incantations, a bit of inky magic rises from her fingertips like smoke. The dark magic wafts behind the insect and weighs in its legs. As the jingle bug’s body droops with fatigue, Chaele’s eyes flick toward Enzo in an urgent albeit silent suggestion to take the bait.
Perhaps it is the same beetle that Chaele had been watching before which now lowers onto a hanging branch between them. It chirps a simple little bridge as the Abandoned changes focus, immediately but carefully raising their hand toward it. With a few rasped incantations, a bit of inky magic rises from her fingertips like smoke. The dark magic wafts behind the insect and weighs in its legs. As the jingle bug’s body droops with fatigue, Chaele’s eyes flick toward Enzo in an urgent albeit silent suggestion to take the bait.
Base code by Odd • Art by Krakenkatz
