She had the very peculiar urge to do something of creative pursuit that day.

Waking up as if it were every other morning, Ralla had immediatly noticed something...not so normal, in fact. Her limbs were stiff with their disuse and her fingers twitched with the hankering for productivity. Not to say she hadn't been productive the past few days--quite the contrary, actually--but it seemed as if her spirit was merely in the mood to create something other than tinder and firewood. But she had no time to waste in the coming days on frivolty, so she very philosphically reasoned with herself that she could be both productive and creative.

Since she would likely miss the spring equinox--and hence the festivites where she would be needed for the Great Fire--she then decided to do some crafting of her own, whereas the duty would normally be left to the Gatlvskas. She took from her personal belongings some feathers--some of which were in color-coordinated piles, others of which she had in little boxes--among other odds and ends to the Town Hall where she procured more miscellaneous supplies to fuel her sudden burst of imagination. She wanted to make something; something that could be used or viewed during the spring ceremony she knew was coming, even though it would be her first spring in AniWaya. Hopefully I'll be back before all the flowers have finished blooming, she prayed. Although she had expressed to more than one tribe member that she at least wanted to see the fireflies in the summer, spring was nothing to scoff at either. It held so much spiritual meaning and power within itself--plus, she could imagine how beautiful it must be; tiny sprigs of flowers blooming forth from a land of ice, the winds shifting to warm instead of chill. And the sun; the days would be longer.

She took her crafts outside and sat near the Great Fire, hoping its closeness would further inspire more inspiration to aid in her task. She was not quite sure what she would--or could--fashion for the ceremony, and so she pondered over the feathers, beads, and wood for a while longer. It would be easier, perhaps, if there were a Gatlvska there with her, but she could not burden her tribe with her whims. She would not deny anyone who asked the chance to participate, though.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

J'adore's still an apprentice at the point that this thread takes place, so don't be offended :3

Not having expected any sort of noise in the quiet, Ralla's ears and tail shot up like picket fences as the female let out a childish yelp. So oblivious had she been--which was also uncharacteristic of her, showing how bothered she was by impending events--that she had not even scented or heard any sort of approach to her person. Turning her head around, she let out a sigh of relief, her body visibly sagging, as she covered her mouth in embarassment from her yelp. "Oh, J'adore, it's you. Ah... please don't mind my, ah...outburst," she commented, referring to her yelp. She had not been so vocal with the outcries since she was a pup, although she found herself a tad more skittish to sudden things as of late.

She turned her upper body on the logs to face her apprentice, looking to and from the items in her hands to his face, having noticed his looks to the other materials. "I'm trying to play at being a craftsman for a time. I won't be here for the spring ceremony, so..." Having said it aloud after contemplating it made it all that much more real, so her sentence trailed off in gloomy acceptance. "So I was going to try and make something for the ceremony; the fire more specifically. Would you care the help?" She smiled, holding up a few colored feathers to the male. "Although I haven't had an idea as what to make yet..."

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

I know I use this table all the time, but I love it and the song so much <3

Ralla mulled over the idea of carving such things for the children, but her expression turned to one as if she were sucking on sour lemons. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a craftsman to make such intricate things," she commented. "That sort of skill would be more suited to Claudius." The only one besides their own Gatlvskas she could think of with such skill was Shawchert from Cercatori D'Arte, but she would not bother him with such a thing, especially since she was the one who wanted to complete the task in the first place. And Claudius she could rarely find; the two had never officially met, but she had heard of him through her other tribemates and seen his work scattered about the village. "The idea is nice, but I can't make such delicate things. I was thinking more of..." she trailed off, recalling a memory of a revel in her native home. "A grand welcome to spring. A thanks for surviving the storm and a rebirth of the fire. Oh! That's right; did anyone tell you? The Great Fire went out during the snowstorm," she said with a tinge of sadness, the fire dancing in her eyes, the color looking as if there were an inferno in a forest.

"Oh! I remembered something!" she said, nearly popping from her seat. "Where I come from, we would decorate our fires for our ceremonies with...oh, how to describe it... We would take bones and antlers and lean them up against one another over the fire, and the flames would dance around them into beautiful patterns. I also learned a little trick," she said with a wink of her own, "on how to treat feathers and leather to make them heat resistant for a time. The tallow that I make--which I should probably teach to you one day as well--can be watered down with the oils of the wapitee, and whatever you put it on will not burn for a very short time." She let her mind continue its trek to almost forgotten memories; a dark night, a black sky, and the flames of the hearth spiraling towards heaven. It had been for the winter solstice ceremony; the longest and darkest night of the year, where the moon slept and rested longer than usual. "We used to take the bones and antlers and paint them, hanging the rope from some of the edges with other bits of ours. I remember...an arrowhead, a tooth, a treated feather, and some tanned hide stretched across one or two spaces of antler." She could smell the heady scent of animal fat even then; the charring of leather had been strong, and the burnt bits of bone would slowly crumble into the fire the longer it would remain. To her it was a beautiful memory of spring, because the tinder would be laden with new twigs and the tribe members would throw fresh grass over the fire, which would take longer to catch because each blade would be so full of water. But it would always smell sharp.

Ralla returned her attention to J'adore after the respite, embarassed for once more wandering off in her own mind. "But all the materials to make such a thing we have; I'm sure we could find some antlers, and there are always a few bones stored in the Town Hall for material." She smiled brightly, the idea then planted firmly in her head. J'adore then offered her the rabbit her had slung over his shoulder and she grinned up at him. "That is very kind, thank you. But let us eat later; I'm much too excited to cook anything now!" she sounded so much like a young child again that Ralla wondered if perhaps she would ever grow out of that brand of enthusiasm. Although it's not entirely bad. I just wish it wouldn't run away with me all the time.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

"It's fine, everyone managed," she said, waving off the apology. But he trailed off his sentence, as if there were something else he wanted to say and didn't want to say at the same time. She gave J'adore a look, contemplating his expression and words, but decided to leave the choice of whether to discuss it or not up to him. "Whatever it is, feel no obligation to tell me unless you want to. I of all people know about that sort of sensitivity. Maybe," she finished with a private laugh to herself.

Ralla listened intently to J'adore's comparison to the Bone Pyre--his own home version's name being a 'Santander'--and an idea sparked in her mind. Because she wanted their project to be exclusively for the fire, she altered both their ideas into a single conglomeration. "I know; how about a combined idea? What if we made the tree of bones and antlers, painted it all, and everyone could decorate it with their seasonal sacrifices?" she said. "For each ceremony, it is my understanding that everyone gives something of value to the Great Fire as a sacrifice to show the Spirits of their conviction for the tribe. What if we made the tree, and then before the fire is relit, everyone could put their things on it to burn?" The vision of such a pyre--such a thing that could become a tradition should their chief accept it--was inspiring enough. And if Ralla at least helped in its construction, she could consider that her sacrifice to the spring ceremony in her absence. "What do you think?"

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

Gawd, Ralla; stop being so bossy XP

"Oh, the sacrificing is already practiced," she explained, getting up and dusting off her knees, more of a habit than a necessity. "I only thought it would look appear more...'grandoise', I believe the word was," she said, quoting a word she had heard from a gypsy some time back, "to have the sacrifices on display and to let them burn together, as together we, as a tribe, shall live on." Despite her explication, she was pleased and excited to hear J'adore's assent to the project, thinking that their combined will and determination would make it a grand debut. And in spring, the season of birth; how fortuitous, she commented to herself.

"Perhaps we should start with the base. I have the ropes, and I can treat them so they will not burn as they hold the weaker parts of the structure together. If you would, please, J'adore, could you get the antlers and bones not claimed in the Town Hall and bring them here? I'll make a run to my hut for a set of bigger antlers I have. Oh! And the pot of oil as well?" she asked, feeling a little demanding but much too excited to do naught but bounce around like a young child. But for once, she was grateful for her junk-collecting habit. Having come by so many shiny bits and pieces--or even odd things, such as the shed antlers--had finally come in a larger usefullness than satisfying her own unexplainable fascination with such things. The two parted to do their collecting, and it was not long before Ralla returned, albeit a bit slower, weighed down with the antlers and the coils of rope. She soon set to work mixing some of the hardened tallow in a bowl with small pours of the oil, which was really just the melted fat of the wapitee that was left behind as leavings from the tribe. It felt slimy over her skin and fur, but was not all that unpleasant, if not very strong smelling. It took much mixing before the tallow even gave a little, and so she continuously repeated the process, having to sometimes add snow to dilute it with water. Of course the oils separated a little, but that was nothing a little earth couldn't handle. It was all very extensive...

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

25...viruses...computer...at once...WORST APRIL FOOL'S DAY D:

"Hmm...we need paint, but...what's left belongs to the Gatlvskas, and we can't make fresh--nevermind that I don't know how--until spring." Ralla sighed, resigned to that particular fact. "Although I suppose it would make proper sense for the Gatlvskas to paint it if we merely contruct and decorate it with what we have. Do you want to make the structure first or the trappings?" It could go in any order, honestly. They could erect the bone tree first and then make teh bead and feathers hangings or do it vice versa. Either way, they would end up with a very nice tree, she thought. She took notice of the yellowing on some of the bones and smoothed her fingertips on top of them, the claws on her feet sifting through the snow a little in contemplation.

"We should probably wash the yellow off these, too. Which would you like to do?" The yellow could easily be removed with a rough brush and some tallow soap; nothing too strenuous. Ralla's way of work was, in fact, very easygoing, granted that no danger or threat presented itself. She would thus let J'adore have such a way with the project as well. They were, after all, colleagues of the same ilk.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

Herp-derp? Which, coincidentally, was meant to be a show o.0

She could see that they would get nowhere if the two of them continued to be courteous to each other, so she shook her head, a broad grin on her face, and set to work with some of the bones, taking the tallow, some snow, and scrubbing hard with a brush she had brought much earlier in the process. "We'll do it as you said. Start with what you will." At that point it was a mad race to get the bones cleaned because, honestly, there were not enough hours in a day. And Ralla could remember well enough it had taken to clean bones at a leisurely pace. No, she did not have that sort of time.

Each bone that she finished felt smoother in her hands, gleaming a little in natural luster. The antlers presented a bit of a problem, trying to maneuver them comfortably, but they, too, got their turn. All throughout Ralla secretly watched J'adore, judging him. She mostly looked for qualities that she felt would qualify for a devoted member, and for all her time spent she could find no fault. On the other hand, she did not know J'adore as intimately as Kemo or, really, many others--which she could understand; not everyone chose to wear their hearts on their sleeves. But somehow, she felt like she always did, and that maybe she was too innocent in that respect. As of yet, she had yet to come to any harm--physical, at least--from the quality, so she had not really done anything about it. What's so wrong about being open? She certainly preferred it to being cold like her brother was most times.

"Well, that took a bit," she said, glancing up from their work to the sky. The sun had risen maybe three positions higher, now at midday, although the worst was over. Hefting up the treated ropes, Ralla stood and began to rifle through their assortment of macabre building materials, testing to see which ones would fit best together. With an 'aha!' moment she took three large femurs for the base and fumbled with them, looking up sheepishly to J'adore as a silent plea for help.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.