"I just want to clean the bones." They should go away clean. Is the more important thing to her, rather than how unsettling it might be to be set on something like that, but it doesn't seem to bother her much, that same peaceful expression on her face, that same particular care she takes of the bones like it was her own family. "It'll just be a few moments."

But the worst of it is when she hums, not just to fill the space, but to fill her up. With it, her hand moves, to the glass phial at her hip, and to the timber of the note, the water begins to vibrate. Then, all of itself, it moves. Weaving about her fingers as they curl to beckon it forward, out of the container, then directing it onwards. Hovering and floating in the air like a ribbon, but constantly moving.

The rest in its way is simple, she swirls the water around the bundle of bones in her apron. Odd, perhaps, her clothes do not become wet, the water never becomes more or less than it started with. But the effect is clear, the dirt lifts off as she washes the bones away.

And at least one spider is swept out of it's hiding spot inside the skull. But it stays trapped in the water. Probably terrified at being abducted out of it's hiding place.