The question of are they? with too much sarcasm dies on Alucard's tongue. His dislike for the damned dragons aside, entering into the bones of any living thing demands a certain amount of respect, even if you loathe the dead and hate their guts. (You're just also...in their guts.)

Shadows are strange inside of a rib cage, sunlight coming in and out at the strangest angles. To think the pattern as something like prison bars doesn't feel right, but the thought still stirs in Alucard's head. He's careful as he goes over the ground, and he stops to peer at the interior side of one of the ribs.

"The runes seem to be repeated on the inside as well," he observes before moving onwards, back and back towards the shrine. He touches nothing. Notes the play of shadows and the creeping sense of...something...that's been weighing him down the longer that he's been at this site. (He'll mention it to Trevor. The Belmont will doubtlessly have some opinions on this.)

Shrines come in so many shapes and sizes. This one is defined by the space it is housed in, and for a few moments, Alucard stands there observing the whole of it. There's dust. Dust and food that is fresh as anything. Magic, naturally, and so his attention goes to the dust. Runs his finger over it.

"This can't be more than a few years' accumulation at most."