Fading Summer

Nehalennia · 09-24-2011, 01:05 PM

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Looney lady over for supper? I think yes! Hope you don't mind me jumping in. ^^

We'll kindle a Fire, A light 'neath the Moon & Sun

The sun, the giver of light, had nearly fallen by the time the old woman shuffled out of the Abbey. Since being shown the area, the squat silver woman hardly left the place. Its peaceful walls illuminated by candles that made the shadows come alive even by day. But tonight was a special occasion to leave behind the warm, wooden walls of the whispering temple to join in the pack's celebrations. Bran had taken flight by the time she began descending, and flew at her command, cawing loudly into the early evening. As Neha's feet found the cool earth after silently walking down the long steps, she stood and waited, breathing deeply through her nostrils. The wind made the trees around her wave, soft and assuring. Milk eyes closed to feel it blow around and through her, beads clacking in response.

It was then that her dual-colored ears heard Bran's call, and she began to shuffle towards it. One foot after another, the butt of the staff thumped softly into the ground with each few steps the mystic took. She was in no rush to get to anyplace, for she would get there eventually. And should the earth shift like the waves at sea, then she would have no choice but to follow. Her single braid of silver swayed with her motions, hearing the raven's call overhead. It was near, at first, and then far away, but always ahead of the woman. Eventually, the earth's arms opened up, revealing Her naked land, and Nehalennia paused to take in the scene before her.

The raven had led her to a comfortable home, as a pair set up their celebrations in the yard. A fire crackled, and the smell of blood and the others' mingled scents permeated the woman's senses. The air that Bran's wings stirred blew towards the side of her face, and felt his familiar pressure upon her right shoulder. He quorked, as if the sound was the energy that gave her the sign to move forward. Slowly, the cloaked woman approached the pair, more sounds and scents making themselves known to the silver one. She stopped a little ways away, and thumped her staff on the ground audibly. Then, with her other pale colored hand, she swept it in a circular motion in the empty air in front of her. "Cyfarchion, children of the earth," she croaked in a small voice, suddenly aware of the dryness in her throat. Pushing her staff to the crook of her arm, the mystic pressed both aging hands together, and swiftly brought them up to her forehead and bowed her head down, two motions acting as one. "Namaste."

Nehalennia

#445.

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