Prism had melted out of the shadows in their usual manner, winding up to Tarnish, dark eyes gleaming. Tarnish stared back with a head tilt, waiting for the other to speak first.

Prism's teeth clicked. "Do you have any bones yet-? I could take them back now, to examine and sort."

"Did you bring a bag this time?" Tarnish's mouth corners were turned down just a touch. Prism twitched, and dragged something off of his shoulder. There was the slight shift of dark eyes rolling, which Tarnish ignored entirely.

"Yes."

The odd pair spent a stretch of ten minutes or so sorting bones out of Tarnish's satchels into Prism's bag. The last rib clinked neatly inside, and it was fastened back over Prism's side.

A pause, a silence.

"Tarn."

"It's Tarnish."

"Tarnish then. Can I get your help with something? Collapse said you'd be the best for it." There was a slight pleading slickness to his voice, eyes shining. His hooves shuffled over the cobblestone.

"If my pay is adequately adjusted."

"... Yes. Come."

----------------------------------

"In there."

Tarnish edged forward, far enough into the space of the room that their eyes caught the gleaming of the pedestal, and the chest atop it, well-made and elegant.

"What's in it, that you want so much-?"

"No." Prism's voice came from just behind his neck, head-shaking. "I don't care about that. Take it or don't. No, I'm after down there."

Tarnish's eyes followed the gestured hoof, and saw the shine of gleaming, clean bones - unmistakably courser in make. Of course. This made far more sense for Prism's motivations.

"... Alright. Not all of them - we'd never be able to carry them all. Stay up here - we don't know what's been doing all that... hard work."