. . . . . . . . . .
.....feathers and bones.
Its so old....
I can see the medicine-man and his pouch. Leather.
His smoky eyes and laughter.
He pulls out a dark, shiny feather.
In the other hand holds an old bone.
Powerful. Infinite. Old wisdom.
Smoke swirls around a gold fire, and there is magic hanging....
on everything alive.
Feathers and bones.