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WARNING This thread contains: graphic sexual content, graphic violence, or extremely offensive material starting with the first post. Reader discretion is advised. |
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Backdated JUNE 21. Alban Hefin (Litha) Ritual.
I added a Warning just in case.... I wasn’t sure how people would feel about this. >__> You can have Larkspur enter whenever throughout this post.... PM me if you need anything! ^w^ Also, pretty much it’s like she’s tripping without the drugs.... yeah. I ended the post right before she throws it in, so you can come in then if you want and you can pp some too, ^w^
500+
Alban Hefin had begun.
The Warrior had gathered what she needed in the days prior, and it was during the day, under the eye of the Sun whose power was now at its peak, that the child of Nemain prepared for the Rituals of the night. Oak wood was carried in the hungering jaws of the wolf to Oberon’s Spring. Carefully, the Warrior laid each small log down, creating a large ring of wood. The black wolf placed the wild thyme at the center, along with daisies. A yellow ribbon she had found in town was laid alongside the freshly picked herbs. Satisfied, the white orbs turned to the midday sun and the black wolf donned the form of two legs so that she could wield her bow. Swiftly, she had hunted the Wrens, the bird of her children and the bird of the day of long hours. One arrow was given to each bird, counting then, at four. By sundown, she had returned to the spring, and carrying four impaled wrens and a rabbit, still living.
Badb was used to light the Oak. The wreath of fire breathed and licked the air with tongues of yellow and red, of prosperity and sexuality. The Warrior’s eyes, like moons in the night sky, were alight with the fury and frenzy of War, with a passion that she could not have. She stood in the center of the ring, allowing the warmth of the flames to stroke her body and carress her. The woaded female closed her eyes, and the one-eyed Raven, his presence unseen but felt, calling her mind to a place that held not the world of mortals but of Dreams. The woman’s breathing changed, becoming slow, and yet deep and barely containable. The hungry jaws parted as her eyes opened slowly to find the her gaze upon the blackness of the sky. She saw there dancing the colours of the flames with tongues that enticed her. The Sun was sleeping, but the God that ruled this longest day was not asleep and lived within her calling, within her passions and desires that called the War of the Morrigan within her.
Her gaze turned to the earth that was living beneath her woad-banded toes. The rabbit that she had bound with the yellow ribbon no longer struggled, but its eyes were wide and its breathing frantic. She had laid it in the grass before the four wrens that burned near the fires, the daisies wrapped about them. The scent of their burning flesh was breathed in deeply as she knelt before the rabbit. The swift hands of the Caledonian-Korean caught it, and on her knees she lifted it and offered it to the flames and the gods. Badb returned to her hand, the song of War lifting up furiously. Her deep breathing quickened as the blade tickled the flesh of the rabbit. Its small body struggled in her grasp, but she worked swiftly and efficiently to remove that which covered the pure sinew beneath. A single cut down the belly—not too deep—and she tore the entire pelt from it, skinning it alive with her teeth and her hands. Badb bit the earth as the scream of death shattered the nighttime air. But it did not die, for Death had not yet come. The pied Raven crawed harshly, his voice mocking the nakedness and the pain. Rising fluidly, the optime offered the living flesh to the gods once more, offering her successes of War, offering her carnal desires that would remain unsatisfied. The white orbs glittered in the light of the flame, and she felt the pain and the nakedness of the life in her hands. A moan was given to the night.
Blood darkened the woad and made her hands slick. Lowering the rabbit, she waited for a single spasm before she would release it into the wreath. Then she would give the thyme to it. Then she would devour it. But not yet—
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