Fading Summer

Nehalennia · 09-29-2011, 04:09 PM

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Hehe.

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

Slowly, her body felt drawn to the fire, seeing its shadows dance along the ground and the warmth that felt good to her skin and bones. When she was within proximity, the male spoke first, to which Bran answered first, and the woman winced slightly as his talons gripped into her shoulder. 'Meal! Corn!' His high pitch screech could be heard into the evening, already feeling welcome as he bounced off of the hybrid and down onto the ground, cocking his head up at the meat that sizzled above the fire. Thumping the end of the staff on the earth once, the raven quieted. "That would be most kind, child," she said with the tiniest of smiles at him. "I have nothing but words and wisdom to give you in return, but sometimes it is all one needs.. this I know."

And then the woman spoke, and Neha's nostrils did not lie of the children this one would soon bear. A careful nod was placed in her direction, before she spoke into the flickering fire, moving as if it, too, were alive. "Please, my children. Nehalennia will do," her free hand waved at them, as if to send away the titles that the pair had given her. "I need not be aware of my body's age. My wits are still about me." A toothy grin this time, as she approached as a guest upon their celebration. With patience, her feet shuffled forward, the end of her staff moving side to side until it came into contact with something hard and flat. The sound was of wood, the stump of a tree that must once have been mighty. "Ahh.. diolchaf goeden hon gwych ar gyfer ei ddefnydd i mi," she murmured, moving slowly to sit upon nature's own chair. Her body slightly protested, as it was wont to do, but years of sitting and kneeling to pray had kept her muscles in motion.

Bran hopped along the ground towards his master, jumping to her cloaked lap, one eye never leaving the meat. He quorked eagerly, but was settled when a frail silver hand came to lay on his back. "Nevermind Bran, he will not harm you. This I know." He responded by ruffling his dark feathers. 'Know! Know! Corn?' Her staff swung to lay by her feet, being placed gently upon the earth as if it were a child. Milky orbs swirled in her eyes as she looked at both in turn, her left hand comfortably resting on the bird's back. "How far along are you with child, child?" The old woman asked, and the pair would soon learn that her questions were to the point, or ofttimes not at all.

Nehalennia

#450.

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