Be Not Fearful

Nehalennia · 10-23-2011, 09:07 PM

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This was extremely weird to write, but that's just the kind of mood I'm in today :x

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

The going was slow, peaceful, and easy. Trails of sand and shadow followed her, accompanied by fallen leaves that clung to the ends of an earthy cloak like a babe to its mother. The vast ocean was left behind the old woman, the sounds of the waves playing happily in her ears as calm winds rolled its waters, waving a natural farewell. The air grew chillier, as scents of the night had just begun to make themselves known when the light colored figure moved along the sunset world, a foreshadowing figure flapping overhead.

Bones creaked noticeably as Nehalennia waddled along, following her senses. Within a delicate, silver palm she carried the old skull of a large creature, its features withered away since its discovery along the earthen floor. It was a sign of the night's events, the grand festival before the welcoming of Mother's chilly gaze, a ceremony of life of children above and below the earth. Bran quorked up ahead, stirring the wind above her as he hovered closer towards the hobbling silver form. Raising her muzzle, she breathed out a simple, well known command. "Yn fy llygaid." With that, the yin and yang colored raven took off, as swift as a long, drawn out breath.

Like a storyteller drawn to its candle for inspiration, the large bonfire surged before her clouded vision in the distance, visible even for the crone's limitations. Bran swooped down from the air and landed near the fresh carcass, lain down near the large fire by a familiar figure. 'Meal!' It proclaimed, repeating Nayru's single word when she spoke her gratitude. With a soft jingling of crystals, Nehalennia followed suit among the open field, scenting inhabitants new and old. Faces both familiar and unfamiliar. It mattered not the lands they once came from, for they were all one tonight - behind masks of fright or reality - the dead and the living were treated as a single entity.

The fire's warmth engulfed her, warming the woman's bones behind her earthen cloak. Her cowl remained around her face, and when the silver hybrid's form halted near the flame, she lifted her eyes, the only thing visible behind a cloak of darkness. The raven hopped along the ground until he reached the woman's feet, when he flapped up onto her decorated shoulder. "Samhuinn hapus, my children," she greeted with a dry voice, nostrils flaring as the old sage took in the scents of fire, blood, wolf, wine, and life.

Nehalennia

#413.

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