closed the blinds and made goddamn sure we could never see the sun

It was strange to see the home he'd lived in for so long in disarray. In his absence, the building that had been constructed to house those living at the shrine had been partially dismantled. Used for storage. Somewhere in his chest, there was a tightness that wouldn't go away. If the pack wanted storage.. he would make them storage. His home would not be a communal stomping ground to put half treated pelts or odds and ends. So, off the young godling went. He started collecting branches and downed trees. As he practiced the art of battle, his muscles had begun to strengthen. He was still a dainty and frail looking creature, but there was a smooth pull of sinew beneath his pelt with each stride now. So he was able to haul those oversized logs towards the familiar structure of the shrine, and pile them haphazardly in the mid-afternoon sun. It would take a while for the plans that were stewing in his head to come to fruition, and for now he was content to sleep in the open. The forest itself was home enough, and he was content with that.

Hallux was out scouting for more fallen logs, so that he wouldn't have to keep wandering aimlessly in search of them. In the close crowded maze of alabaster trunks, the parrot was well suited to sweeping through boughs and sparse canopies to survey the landscape. While the godling awaited her return, he sorted through the materials he'd collected. Binding of some sort would be the next order of business, either mud and clay mixtures or a far more tedious process of using ropes. Mud would insulate better, and keep the contents of the building from being damaged by rain or snow. Was there anywhere nearby that would offer up some clay? There might be a trip in order, off to one of the riverbeds nearby to see what kind of mudbrick he could construct... The wraith stooped over the pale branches and toppled saplings he'd gathered, trying to construct some kind of plan for himself.

"Pontifex" || "Hallux" || "others"