The altar

Xairo's ears perked up at the mention of their mother's dream visitation. A flicker of envy passed through him, but he quickly pushed it aside. There would be time to dwell on that later. Right now, they had work to do. He trotted over to where Zagan was examining the boulders, eyeing them with a critical gaze. Yes, these would do nicely. Sturdy and solid, they would provide a stable foundation for the altar. "Let's start with this one," Xairo said, motioning to a particularly large boulder with his muzzle. He pressed his shoulder against the rough stone, feeling the grit of lichen and moss against his fur. With a grunt, he began to push, straining against the weight.

"Xairo Saxe"