#bone pit

A common comment on my last video was something to the tune of “I can’t find any bone piles on Google” or “know of any in [state]” or “I’ve lived in the US my whole life and never heard of bone piles.”

First, I am very glad that people are looking to explore and find bone piles near them! Major kudos for wanting to explore the real world! And I wish I could tell you that every natural feature is categorized, marked, named, and documented on maps.

But, sadly bone pits are not tourist attractions that you might have “heard of” or that have social media profiles you can look up. (Although, I did write an article about the cow bones in the East Bay Regional Park District! And I have seen one with a sign.)

Bone pits are generally just kinda there. Like those illegal dumps filled with old trailers, boats and tires. Bone piles and dump sites tend to be created by people who don’t exactly want you to find them. Maybe that’s because sometimes I find things that suggest suspicious activity. (Not like murder, but like littering, illegal habitation, drugs, generally signs of poverty…possibly some wildlife crimes like wanton waste.)

So, if you wanna find bone piles, see if you can befriend some hunters and farmers!

@writingnodule was gracious enough to participate in @shannaraisles‘ fundraising and I am so grateful for that. THANK YOU!!! They had an interesting proposition: What if Bethany and Carver were the survivors, and Bethany became the Champion of Kirkwall? This is just a little interaction between the twins :)

Carver & Bethany Hawke || Words: 623 || Warnings: None

For his part, Carver had lost the number of times he had cursed out Hubert’s name and his fucking Bone Pit disaster area. If it wasn’t for Bethany and her desire to help every person in Kirkwall, he would have abandoned this entire endeavor and called it a loss. Alas, his twin was a lot more sensitive to the plight of maligned Fereldan workers, so their group ended up finishing their quest and cleared out the whole place anyway. Now they were slowly crawling back towards Kirkwall, a little worse for the wear and exhausted to the core.

“You don’t have to carry me,” he heard Bethy mumble into his neck.

Carver scowled before he remembered she couldn’t see his face. He had insisted on giving her a piggyback ride home, and while his tiny twin normally weighed almost nothing in comparison to his sizeable muscles, he was starting to feel it.

“If you think I’m going to let you walk on your injured leg, you don’t know me after all,” he grumbled over the shoulder. “Yes, I know Anders healed you, but you should let it rest either way.”

She chuckled. “I’m glad to know you still care about me, brother,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. Bethany was incredibly caring, selflessly giving every part of herself for everybody else’s benefit without ever stopping to breathe or rest herself. Ever since they had arrived in Kirkwall a year prior people had been approaching her for help, knowing she would never say ‘no’.

“Somebody has to care for you when you won’t do it yourself,” he grumbled back. “What possessed you to rush that dragon anyway? You should have left that to me and Fenris.”

Bethy was quiet for a moment and Carver though she had drifted off when she finally spoke again.

“I just wanted the battle to be over sooner,” she admitted quietly. “I hated having to kill a dragon. They are such majestic creatures.”

“And they’d majestically roast you for dinner,” Carver pointed out.

“Well,” she said, sounding very indignant, “it’s not their fault that human greed caused deep mountain exploitation where the miners ended up disturbing the dragon’s lair and paid the price with their lives. If it wasn’t for Hubert, that momma dragon would have raised her babies just fine and everybody would have lived.”

Carver sighed and shook his head.

“I should have known you would feel bad for the blasted dragon.”

“There’s nothing wrong with showing a little compassion to the creatures around us, Carver,” Bethy pointed out. “I’m really trying to do my best since… since… since, you know.”

--since Garrett, Carver wanted to finish, but didn’t.

Their oldest sibling’s death at the ogre’s hands had hit Bethy the hardest, the crushing guilt and their Mother’s nagging making grief that much heavier on her heart. She had taken on a lot of responsibilities in the following year, determined to show that she wasn’t just a soft flower meant for finery, but also a fierce warrior and a capable mage.

“I think you’re doing just fine,” he told her gruffly, not wanting to let her think poorly of herself.

He felt her shift against his back and her arms wrapped tighter around his neck in a somewhat awkward hug.

“I love you, too,” she whispered in his ear.

Hawke t h i s, Hawke t h a t.  

It was cold. In the bone pit.

There was a lot of bones in there. At least a dozen, maybe two. And they were arranged in meticulous, physically implausible ways. One looked kind of like a fish, but like, it’s clearly not. It has a spine. And we all know fish don’t have those.

Anyways, I’ve been in the bone pit for around two or three years, now. And it sucks ass, let me tell you. Hate the bone pit. And, like, it’s not all bad, to be fair. There’s new bones that come in from the bone shop every day, excluding holidays. I haven’t figured out which holidays they have off and which ones they don’t, yet. But there was like, a one-week period in July where there was nothing at all. So, there’s that. For consideration.

Oh, did I mention it was cold here? It’s not cold anymore. That’s why I said was. It’s actually a very pleasant temperature, right now.

Honestly, the bone pit isn’t all that bad. I kinda like the bone pit.