An errant wind had long picked at that folded paper, making it flutter like a large frantic moth stumbling on through its first flight on new wings. A skeletal hand burst through the soil very suddenly to halt its midnight flight, and it would be carried on by a legion more bony fingers until it make it to the one the red ink named.

“Oh! Thank you!” The Gravekeep replied quite politely, picking the sheaf of now very crumpled paper ever so gently from the skeletal hand that served it up. She placed her teacup down to give the paper her full attention, on unfolding the wrinkled paper to witness the shout of crimson letters scribbled there, her lantern like eyes blinkered in some confusion, as if staring on some foreign lettering she could not grasp.

Then a silent ‘eureka’ of recognition came, and her smile split across her face with eerie delight. “Oooh! You’re learning to write, are you?” She congratulated the skeletal hand that had given over the paper, giving it a firm handshake. “How wonderful! You did magnificently, dearest. We’ll have to get some more bones together then, I’ll wager! And then an actual ink well, and we’ll practice, practice, practice!”

As the Gravekeep prattled on cheerily about her plans, the summoned hand rattled with some confusion, and slowly, deftly, dug itself back into the soil, believing it best to dismiss itself from the oblivious Anna.