[P] [LCS ] To the stars who listen, and the dreams that are answered.
#1
Wc – 506
Ooc: For Soledad, tarot reading! Morrian wont need much in exchange for trade, she’s open to a lot besides healing things, unless its seeds DCG doesn’t have. :3

SISTER OF THE [ M O O N ],




Morrigan shuffled the cards between her fingertips, frowning at how the motion wasn’t easy. Rio seemed to deal his cards easier, and she wondered just what his were made from. The female Witch was seated near to where the Perrin Du Lacs trading stall was, located in prime location straight across from the bar. While she knew the two swamp siblings had their own style of Voodoo, it wasn’t something either of them cared to display and hawk onto others – it was a private, religious matter. Morrigan was looser with her own beliefs, having several called into question since coming to settle in Del Cenere.

It was why this application of such things didn’t bother her. If anybody wished to trade small trinkets for insight of a practicing Witch, that was all the better for her. Too many within Del Cenere were.. stuffy, to say in the least. Though Morrigan loved Peony with all her heart, and had seen the Braithewaite slowly morph and change – she was still Christian through and through. The Witch had no time for such gods and wrinkled her nose at the masculine figurehead the more pious had appointed. The Parish was a place she normally avoided for similar reasons.

The Mother, made much more sense to her. Her energy was divine and flowed through all things, it was the Mother that made Morrigan’s heart beat, the one that ushered in the growth and prosperity needed to facilitate a bountiful harvest – she was responsible for the health of Morr’s pups, why Peony despite all odds had birthed one healthy, beautiful daughter – it all tied together neatly for the Witch. And so she sat, decorated in all of the jewelry that she possessed – fine scarves filched from Peony’s endless trunk and wrapped around the hybrids head tying the look together. All the necklaces that had been given to her upon her promotion from various friends were layered against her throat, and small wooden rings inlayed with gemstones on loan from Aelin decorated each finger.

Perfume had been borrowed from Suga, leaving a heady scent of Jamine and something resembling amber floating through the air near her stall, vanilla notes inviting passersby in. Any spare bit of fabric DCG could loan to the Witch had been taken for decorative purposes, and the result was a small area that was tented in beside the main stall, garish with the opposing colors of the fabric but a point of interest none the less. Leather cards that had been stiffened up bore the mark of each of the Major Arcana, and she shuffled them in a never-ending motion – attempting to be smoother with each pass that was made. A few candles were lit in the background, and various bunches of dried, colorful herbs dangled around the entrance to Morrigan’s tent.

A painted wooden sign was nestled in the grass at the foot of her tent’s outermost part, with simply 3 symbols and an arrow pointing within. A whole moon, flanked by a crescent phase on each side.



D A U G H T E R OF THE WOODS.

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From my ROTTING BODY, flowers shall G R O W, and I am THEM & that is E T E R N I T Y.


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