He thrashed his tail, teeth clenched in irritation, as the leaves and bark and stones resulted in the same pattern. Black. A vague and rather useless result. It could have meant that the future was unclear or the question too tumultuous; it could have meant that he was forsaken or being toyed with. All in all, alone it meant nothing. Over and over again, it boiled his temper. That would not do with the season heading into spring and summer and autumn.They came to him, in spring and summer and autumn. The months when all of them sought someone or something to spend their time with or distract their thoughts with. And if he couldn't answer their questions or point them towards a friend or a fling or a mate . . .
He slammed his tail down, hard, scattering the vessels and mediums. If only the clouds and stars weren't so fickle, he could have looked skyward. But it was daytime and the sun was bright. With a grumble, he climbed to his hooves and grumbled. There were others way to read the past, the present, and the future. Or at least gather a different bunch of leaves and bark and stones. Regardless, there was work to do before the spring drove kin mad.
Dark Arts was out of breath. She was ultimately out of shape a realization she came to when the winter ice thawed and promising spring came around. She wasn't as active in the frozen months and not her body ached with lethargy and disuse. Since Spring was about new beginnings, she was trying to haul items a longer distance to build up her endurance and stamina. She had to go far and wide to collect items for her potions and elixirs. When she found them, she couldn't always carry back as much as she wanted. Something inevitably would give out- her jaw from holding the parcel for too long, or her back or legs for the long hours and distance. She was determined to not let her body and its limitations hold her back from reaching her full potential. She had things to brew and warts to solve, dammit!