Sweet dreams are made of this,
Who am I, to disagree?

The serval hummed to herself, carrying a bag of items around town trying to find a quiet, safe place to make it. And after moments of scouring, she found just the right place -- next to Lucinder's house. It was almost as if by coincidence, or by fate. Maybe her mother would give her blessing. As she started to lay out the bones, sticks, and herbs, her mind wandered.

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[i]"Mama, what are we?" the child asked, looking up at the serval. Her bright red fur contrasted that of the muted tones of her daughter, but their green eyes were the same. Gods, she told the little one. They were gods. "Does that mean I can shapeshift?" Not yet, but time would tell. There was always time. "Oh... well, I wanna grow up now! I wanna change forms!" In time, little Red. In time.

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"Alec, what's become of us?" He didn't know, but responded anyway. We've become powerful. "Oh. No, we've always been powerful. What are we?" The dark jackal was in thought. Lovers. The two were lovers. "Ah, you're right. I love you, Alec." I love you too, Red.

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By the time she had come to her senses, the altar was finished. Three bones creating a teepee shape, with a skull under them and herbs wrapped around sticks, placed along the ground in an almost circular shape. She stared at it, her green eye awash with sadness. "Hopefully it suffices." She muttered. In time, little Red. In time.