CHERNOBYL

The black and white unicorn chimes in, her voice gentle enough to hardly echo off of the hot clammy walls. Chernobyl doesn't ignore her but leaves her self out of the responding category. She knows nothing of what these symbols mean, short from the obvious sun, moon, water, fire and earth figures. She too is curious about what they actually mean. She keeps a black ear bent to their voices while her eyes search the walls of the hollow rock hall.

Agnodice quickly proves useful to the cause and takes over with her strong, smooth milky voice. Some part of Bull wants to reach out and thank the woman for happening upon them with such knowledge. It would have taken the black mare hours to decipher such a thing. And when she compares them to letters, something rarely known to anyone nowadays, Bull's mind clicks completely she looks at the carvings with a wider stare, stepping back as Agnodice rises to plant her feet on the wall and explain further. She listens carefully and remains silent, keeping her eyes and ears on the buttermilk unicorn and nodding while her mind soaks in the information.

Suddenly the tinkling music begins to slither down the cave corridors and into the rooms. The sound dancing all around so very faintly it almost seems not to exist. Bull's charcoal eyes dart to the entrance of the room when a pale and speckled figure comes forth. Her dreaded mane flops to the side with her quick head movement and chunks of her thick forelock tangle on her viciously prickly horn. She blinks slowly and dips to head to greet the pegasus, finding her spots to be of interest – they reminded the dark unicorn of someone. Who? Who else has those markings? She did not stay on the subject long, instead she interjects the small bout of quiet with her own oily silk voice, cold like mountain stone and steady as the, “Well I'm Bull, that's Agnodice, and that's Calista.” She doesn't smile but there is no frown threatening to wrinkle her long, curved face. “That would be wonderful. Meet us back here, maybe, when you find out more..” She looks to the buttermilk unicorn and then the golden horned mare, if they had any thoughts this was the time; her eyes say this plainly and without emotion. Afterward her eyes drift back to Rei and the book at her feet. This was beyond helpful, truly. Chernobyl's mind begins to wander into the depths of the knowledge this move may yield. They could potentially find out so many things they never knew. Maybe even more about the Gods and their shifty shady fucking ways.

“And these.” She's moved to the western wall, more God symbols, one for each and some others she can't figure out. They are smaller and under the main deities' glyphs. What was more interesting to her, however, was the stars intricately etched into the stone. They were constellations – groups of stars laid by the oldest of Gods when the globes and their moons were forming alongside them – one of her old teachers had taught her about some long ago. She remembers a lion and bull, most of all, and nothing else of prudent detail. “They are the God's constellations.” She looks over her shoulder to them, one eye veiled in chunks of her raven-black mane. “Are you guys familiar with those?” She doesn't cast a judgy stare or bare a tone of snottiness. Her voice is like frozen stone, flat and somewhat cold, lacking any social courtesies or eloquent charm.

i've dug graves,
you'll never find . . .