the burning heart of god

Siv Helsi · 01-01-2012, 02:30 AM

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(819)

The art of ritual was very much a part of constructing the mantle, as it had been since the idea first came. Siv was not a woman who delighted in stuffy rituals and instead very much favored the simple parts of her faith. For several weeks now her progress had been slow—most of it involved the meticulous task of stalking and killing ravens. She had ended up perfecting a rather base technique for such a thing.

Verusha, as it turned out, was skilled beyond simply child-rearing. One night she had knotted together a rope tug-toy for Draugr, and fascinated by the speed and craftsmanship in her old hands, Siv had asked (though it was a demand as such; she could not refuse it, being a slave) for her to construct a net weighted by stones. The coyote had explained this would not do for fishing, and Siv had to repeat the purpose of such a thing. Though she was not required to gift the slave for her work, Siv had made a point to allow her the finest catch of a hunting excursion.

So then it had come to the actual goings about of her contraption. Siv had spent hours trying and failing to sneak up on the birds. She was a large woman and while able to be quiet, she was spotted easily. Eventually, she ended up having to sit and wait, hidden in foliage, for the noisy things to return to a carcass. It had been a grueling process and taken another hour before she had actually thrown the net, only to be too slow and miss her prey entirely.

This had gone on for two days before she finally saw success. Two ravens, bickering over a piece of meat intentionally left out to bait them, had wound up snared under the net. Seeing this as a sign (for two was one of the holy numbers, especially when it came to ravens) Siv thanked Odin verbally and dedicated the bird’s blood to his name. That was of no use to her, though she might have whipped up a concoction in the Hearg using such a thing. Salsola was not as endowed to her gods as the home she had left behind.

It was now the fourth day of her preparation, and while the bird carcasses from the night before waited in her home, the dark woman set out intending fully on gathering the rest. The ritual, as she deemed it, was based entirely around honoring the holy signs and holy numbers. Two ravens had been a sign of All-Father’s praise, but the number thirteen was the strongest and thus she was required to snare eleven more birds to complete the thing. The leather, too, would need to be made from an animal of power—a ram. She would not take one of Salsola’s, having been warned very carefully by the Tigress watching over them of their value. Rams of the Family were meant for yearly feasts. Siv saw the weight in this as well. It was a ritual, even if they had not realized it yet.

So her goals were lofty, but time was on her side. The position of the Crone remained open, and Tlanti now fled from her when she walked. Wisteria was the only other woman capable of challenging her for the rank, but the white wolf seemed to recognize that between them it was Siv whose personality was the stronger. Siv would rise and she would have to find her mark elsewhere. Khalif’s gods, as they had been explained to her, were too few to stand against her pantheon. Nor, as she had discovered, were they truly honored. Wisteria and Larkspur alone seemed to hold faith with them, for their children had been exposed too early to Salsola’s ways and thus corrupted from absolute faith.

This made Siv extremely pleased, though she was careful not to speak of it or show her desires. As far as she was concerned, this project was for her alone. A shawl made from ravens and a ram would be the strength of a man. Women were, ultimately, the stronger sex, but she needed the physical properties of All-Father in her garments to best honor him. There were other ways to use the power of weaving, and she would see to it that this fine art was buried under the raven feathers. It would be fitting in that way, she reasoned.

Her steps were fast, and while she wore little today, she carried a bag tooled from deer hide. It hung over one shoulder and across her chest, and fit snugly on her back. There was less noise from such construction, even if it meant she had less space. She did not carry much, though. The woven and weighted net and a singular ritualistic dagger were all the tools she needed. Birds; that was the goal today.

Salvia Eternity · 01-27-2012, 09:22 PM

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(226) fiiine I will thread with myself :|

The blonde girl moved through the forest with silent steps, her pace quick and cat-like. Behind her a red shadow trailed, his pace matching her own. They were in sync with one another, hunting partners despite the absence of her presence while in Freetown. Salvia was pleased with his progress and would now use it fully for this hunt. While she ate often herself, today her task was one focused more on the duty assigned to her. As a hunter her duty was to provide; she did this admirably.

As they moved, the cat stilled. Salvia followed suit, her head rising sharply. While she did not speak, a singular flick of the tail said enough without her being vocal. He dropped low, pupils dilating to an impossible point, and slipped into the underbrush. Mere moments later he returned, fluffed ears high and pace less secretive then he might have done so were it prey.

“Wolf,” was all the cat said, his German flawless. Salvia had found his speech was easier using the guttural, thick tongue.

With a nod, Salvia trotted off to intercept the stranger. As it turned out, it was no stranger but a Family member. The blonde girl halted sharply, lupus form smaller but none the less imposing given her presence alone. “Siv,” she greeted, nose high for the proper exchange to take place.

Siv Helsi · 01-27-2012, 09:36 PM

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(280)

The dark woman had feared for her position within this place when she had first arrived, but now she felt more confident. Sirius had seen the same magic within her as Eris; both would conciliate with what she could offer soon enough. Once she had completed the ritual there would be little doubt to her power. Appearance was what mattered, and her vision was magnificent. Purple dye was easy enough to make, though her intended shade required patience to achieve. It was the feathers now that mattered and the meaning behind them.

She slowed her pace as a silent specter appeared, golden-black in the morning light. Salvia. Where the girl’s pelt had come from given her parents was peculiar—Siv did not know that Larkspur’s family had been made up of white wolves, or that Eris’ wolfish father resembled the girl almost perfectly. There was no questioning whose daughter she was; rank aside, Salvia presented herself with the same arrogance of her parents; Eris more so than Larkspur, though his distance suggested the same sort of high-thought given to those in power.

A giant compared to the lupus form, Siv had to squat to properly greet the higher-ranked member. Her purple eyes strayed onto the arrowhead necklace, keeping them from Salvia’s as a sign of respect. “Hello Salvia,” she replied, and rose. “I hope I am not disturbing you.” With the cat trailing behind her, it was apparent the girl was working. Such a relationship was odd to Siv, though the majority of those who lived in Salsola owned pets—horses, commonly, and cats quickly growing in number. Before long they’d be outnumbered, she thought, and smiled at the idea.

Salvia Eternity · 01-27-2012, 09:49 PM

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(218)

Salvia was not oblivious to the undercurrents of Salsola’s social structure, but she worked outside of it. Her rank was reliant on Sirius alone; even her mother did not hold her as he did. The promotion had only given her natural desire to find power rise. Salvia had always been a girl led by her will to dominate, and she had done so with all the children from her litter. Even Pandemic, as mighty as he was, acquiesced to her demands and needs. This truth was not even limited to them. The fact that TK, a fierce warrior who might have bested Salvia in her best health, had been conciliated. Unchecked, Salvia might have gone on to destroy herself; despite binding her with his words, Sirius kept her alive.

She flicked an ear, dismissing the apology. “We haven’t begun. What are you doing out? Are you also hunting?” Salvia did not understand how many of her Family members did this in their Optime forms. Two legs limited speed despite offering size and other talents. Having never used weapons or tools for such a thing, she did not imagine the Helsi woman would be after anything large without a spear or something similar. While Siv was large herself, a grown animal was not to be underestimated by any means.

Siv Helsi · 01-27-2012, 10:11 PM

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(261)

Siv was not truly led by much. While she craved power, it was only because power could offer stability. The Hearg had not been that place for her, and now Salsola would be. As long as her quiet daughter was kept strong and grew into a mighty thing then her role did not truly matter—but her birthright as volva was to assume the Crone position. Magic was her domain regardless of her faith within the realm itself. Once more finding faith in the gods had restored some of this, but her magic was not entirely given to the spiritual realm. Psychotherapy (though she did not know this as the term) played a strong role in her behavior; by observing and manipulating those around her Siv thus wove her own path.

“I am,” she explained, thick hair tumbling around her shoulder as she folded her arms over her breasts. “For birds, actually. Ravens. Have you seen any in your travels? I need a flock to complete what I’m working on.” If anyone had come across the prey within this land it would be Salvia. Siv noted that the cat behind the girl seemed quite interested by the mention of birds. He sat up, pupils widening in the odd manner of all cats. Siv found that the beast magic of this girl was remarkable; she had little control over any animals and just seeing a cat reach nearly the same size as a wolf was remarkable. Both Salvia and her pet were still young, of course, and had much room to grow.

Salvia Eternity · 01-27-2012, 10:28 PM

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(246)

At the mention of ravens, Salvia took interest. There was little meat on the birds, so the use or need of them was beyond her. Yet Siv mentioned working on something or another—she wore feathers in her hair after all. Salvia did not decorate herself, though she had begun contemplating such a thing. Like most girls, she often compared herself to those around her. Unlike most girls, however, Salvia did not doubt her looks or the way she appeared. Confidence oozed from her skin like musk, though she smelt so strongly of horse and animal that one might never have guessed her own scent below it.

Yet she admired, and in some ways, envied Siv’s dark fur and thick hair. Her own often got tangled and caught up in things, so she didn’t have the patience to comb through it. Maybe TK could do such a thing, Salvia thought, though her attention was drawn to the question at hand. Her eyes drifted away, pupils dilating, and she drew a mental image of the landscape within her too calculating mind. “East. The land opens up there; birds find easier food that way.” Many commuted between Inferni and Salsola, though the wiser ones would not linger when wolves were present.
“What are you making?” she asked, suddenly interested. Perhaps she too could profit from aiding the woman; Salvia had seen the beautiful leather piece made for Luna and sorely wished for something equally as beautiful one day.

Siv Helsi · 01-27-2012, 10:38 PM

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(198)

“A shawl,” Siv explained, and lifted one hand to brush across her shoulder. The motion trailed to the other end, suggesting it would cover her entirely. “But there is more to it. You will see.” A smile suggested it was a surprise; indeed it would be. One day she would come in full regalia, a sight to behold indeed. For now, though, there was only the need for one project to begin. Many more steps needed to be taken for the whole thing to be completed.

Siv looked towards the aforementioned direction, wondering how far it would be. With any luck, she would be able to finish before nightfall. Traveling back would not be hard, but she doubted the birds would be out when it was dark. “I will be on my way, unless you need me…?” The question hung in the air, suggesting Siv did not really wish to be kept from her hunt. The sooner she gathered these things the sooner she could get to work. Perhaps she would even make something from the feet; bird’s feet were easily curable and could be fashioned into interesting jewelry and decorations as long as she worked quickly enough.

Salvia Eternity · 01-27-2012, 11:47 PM

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(1649)

“I will help you,” Salvia announced. Her tail flagged behind her briefly, suggesting this was a command—though it was not, truly. The lynx yawned widely and rose to his feet, massive shoe-shoe things that belonged better to the cold of Siberia than this mild winter. Still, he was of a breed that would survive well here. With a wolf as a hunting partner, they both feasted like kings. In time, he would grow into a massive thing; with his Eurasian blood the reddish cat had the potential to grow to incredible size. Once they both grew into their bones the pair would be a remarkable team.

Siv seemed surprise by the offer, and her purple eyes narrowed slightly. Salvia only smiled. “If I help you with this project, I would like to ask for a blanket, as you made Sirius. My horse is still a colt, but I admire your work greatly.” She watched realization creep across the silver-brushed woman’s face, and finally bloom into a smile. The woman was terribly pretty despite the wild glint in her eyes. “I still need a ram; help me capture one and I shall fashion you what you ask. We will need to sort out that leather suits you best, of course; there is reason behind all things I make, you see.”

The dark woman motioned for Salvia to lead, and the blonde girl turned. Her steps were fast, but Siv’s long legs allowed her to keep pace. Behind them the lynx followed, finding using their footprints easier than trudging over the thick snow. “Yes, you’re like my mother in that way. She finds magic in things I don’t understand,” the girl threw over her shoulder, though her speed did not falter. The mechanical pace of her walk was moved by the needs of speed and the desire not to leave tracks. Indeed, though they traveled in a line, it was only Siv who left heavy prints behind. This was further due to her weight than anything else—as large and heavy as she was, the wolf could not help but tear up the earth below her feet.

“Eris is wise,” the dark woman said, purple eyes gleaming in a peculiar fashion. She suspected at this point she had managed to conciliate the Auxiliary. They had reached an understanding but there was yet much to do in order to bring her own faith to this land. Odin and his children were present yet; she saw reflections of the stories in all these people. China had been a good step for her. The coyote girl had responded to her stories well enough, and proven she had not lost the power of the voice. Had she not had that night, she would not be so confident in her abilities. “I choose leather for others with magic in mind. All animals have power; why do you think our Lord Hunter wears the bear pelt?”

A light laugh trailed back from the girl, who wagged her tail lightly at the thought. “Well that makes sense. He did kill it, after all.”

“Yes, but the bear is the sign of strength. I made his horse’s blanket from bull elk; it is a masculine power, one he commands,” Siv explained, though she did not specify more than this. While this probing would see if Salvia did possess further magic, she understood that Eris had done so before and seen little. All things changed, of course.

“I kill elks all the time,” Salvia replied, slowing to sniff the air and changed her course. She nimbly leapt over a fallen log, landing lightly. “What would you make mine out of?” The girl asked, glancing over her shoulder briefly. While her mind was almost strictly based on the simple logic of the here and now, what she could see and touch and taste, the demon haunted world was one full of symbols and ideas that were entirely fascinating to a mind that did not sync with them.

Siv was quiet for a moment as if debating the answer. When she finally spoke, the answer surprised the girl. “A hunting cat,” she answered lowly, as if the animal trailing them might be offended. “A mountain lion, perhaps. You hold the strength of the cats, Salvia—even our Lord Hunter knows this.”

Surprisingly, the lynx only smiled in the vague way that cats do. As it was, cougars interfered with his hunting grounds. If this she-wolf would destroy them it would only prove profit for his plans. As it stood, most of the other male cats in the area did not overlap his “territory”. The females were easier to allow within, for he instinctively believed they would one day mate with him and thus provide children, as his right as a dominant male demanded.

Salvia found the idea curious; she recalled a puma taking up residence in their home in Anathema, but had seen the pelt of such a beast kept by Eris now. It was thinner then she would have thought, but this was due to the quality of the tan and not the animal itself. Leather was as foreign to her as magic. “That would be something,” she replied, almost indifferently. “I’ve never thought of hunting cats; they’re smart,” the girl added, glancing over her shoulder. “If you don’t know how they hunt you would be lucky to make it out alive.”

“As I’m sure you know well,” Siv commented, a dark smile crossing her face. “You should remind me when your horse is grown; I will measure him for you then. I will need to decide how to make it as well.”

“Sure,” the blonde girl replied, and slowed. The woods opened up ahead of them, revealing the landscape more common of Drifter Bay. She looked about and then pointed with her muzzle. “There; though I’m not sure how you’ll catch that many. They tend to take off once you startle them.”

The witch-woman shrugged off her pack and flipped open the top. Within it was a finely woven fishing net; Salvia recognized it as it was produced and frown, puzzled. When she spotted the stones wrapped about the ends she quickly understood and her eyes lit up. “That’s brilliant,” she exclaimed, tail wagging furiously. “Do you use it like you do with fish?”

“I’m hoping to,” Siv replied, and pulled the net through her hands. “I’ve done it before but not with so many. Perhaps together we’ll have more luck.”

Without a word Salvia nodded and slipped into the thicker brush. The noise suggested she was shifting, and respectfully, Siv looked outward and to the Bay. When the girl returned, she was two-legged. It was apparent she was growing into womanhood; her breasts and hips were not those of a child anymore, though she had not gone through heat yet—at least not to Siv’s estimation, given the way her hips remained thin yet. Salvia bent to run her hand along the lynx’s back, earning a low purr for her trouble.

“So, let’s try this then,” she said, hair tousled by her speedy shift. It was short and somewhat choppy, suggesting she rarely cared for it.

The two women made their way out to the open field. By moving slowly and taking advantage of their respective talents, they came upon the flock after long, drawn out moments. They wound up finding a high point of ground and from their launched the attack; between the two of them the net was wide enough to encircle most of the birds, who raised hell and fought against the heavy rope and heavier stones. Salvia and Siv snapped their necks with little concern, spilling no blood and gathering more than expected. The older woman counted them up and found that she was two over. Pleased by this, she smiled broadly.

“My thanks, Salvia.”

The girl shook her head, dismissing such a thing. “It was fun. I’d like to try with that net again; do you have any other tricks you’re keeping from me, Siv?”

Another smile broke from the dark woman’s face, and she went back into the bag. From this she drew a soft looking piece of leather, with a larger end on one side. Puzzled, Salvia held it when it was offered. “This is a sling. If you place stones in this end,” Siv explained, motioning to the larger side. “You can swing them and strike from a distance. It will take practice; but I think you would be good at it. I will show you more, later; I must return home with these birds.”

Intrigued by the promise, Salvia nodded and looped the sling over her head. It was large enough to fit loosely around her neck; this suggested, as she intended, that her hunt would not continue on two legs. “Well good luck to you. If you need help with the ram, let me know.”

“I will. Hunt well, Salvia.” Siv turned and hoisted the birds onto her back. Within the net they were easier to carry, and less damage would occur to the feathers she needed. Behind her, Salvia made the second transformation back down to four legs. The lynx joined her not long after, his eyes bright and ready for a true hunt. The girl smiled toothily. “Ready to really hunt?”

He purred loudly, stretching. “Deer still?”

The wolf laughed, shook out her pelt, and rolled one shoulder. “A doe, of course. We’ll take one of the small ones; same pattern we always use. When she breaks, turn her to me; they’re all so thin we won’t have any trouble with them.”

With a flick of his short tail, the lynx rose. He and the wolf trotted off, moving towards their intended destination and morning hunt—it was later then they would have liked, but the deer did not move greatly between dawn and early afternoon.

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