sonder winter 1710

I Have Always Been a Storm

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High Priestess

from
age
5 years old
gender
Female
size
Medium
scent
Lavender and bonfire smoke
supporting
Undecided
home
Fae Forest
threadlog
Witch's Brew
writer
Rilo

S

ummer was over. Newly fallen leaves crunched beneath dainty paws, but the autumn colors that adorned the forest during this sacred season were obscured by the inky, dark sky. A full moon refused to illuminate the world of the mortals below, hidden by ominous dark clouds. Not even the brightest star could shine through the blackness.

As if she were a cat, able to see in this blanket of dark, Rhiannon moved through the enchanted forest alone. She swerved around gnarled trees, ducked beneath bare branches. Tonight was Mabon – the autumnal equinox, when day and night are at their most equal. The night’s air was brisk – finally, a night where one could see their breath on the cold wind. Now, the days would be shorter, and the nights would reign once more.

The nighttime belonged to the goddess. And Rhiannon belonged to the night.

Finally, the storm-dressed wolfess stopped in a wide meadow. This Sabbat represented the harvest season and abundance, a time of gratitude for the blessings bestowed upon mortals by the unseen world that surrounded them. It was an occasion meant for balance – and Rhiannon had not felt such harmony, neither with herself nor the rest of her kind, for a long while.

Inhaling the bracing air, the she-wolf closed her eyes and tipped back her muzzle, offering a mournful howl to the Feminine Divine before she began her incantation: ”The seasons pass. No wolf can alter the course of the year. No wolfess can determine her own fate, for the goddess lights our path.” She fell silent for a few beats before she concluded, ”And I am asking Her for guidance this night.”

Violet eyes opened, looking into the dark abyss for the answers. Would every Sabbat be one spent in solitude? She asked aloud, ”What comes next?”


@Sakura
art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck


(This post was last modified: 12-17-2022, 12:55 PM by ᓚᘏᗢ.)
11-27-2022, 02:08 PM
#1

Spice Trader

from Rionnach
age
3 years old
gender
Female
size
Small
scent
Ginger & Citrus
supporting
Undecided
threadlog
encounters
writer
claerie



The soft scent of flowers was no longer quite as fragant as it had been once, and yet Sakura could tell that their perfume had once been overpowering here. Notes of wisteria, rose, pansy, and bluebells clung to the thick, gnarled bark. They spoke of verdant meadows, rich with colors that reminded her of home. Unlike here, the gardens of her homeland were breathtaking and well manicured. By contrast, these 英国人 were taken with chaos. They allowed their forests to sprawl, to grow big enough to hold secrets.

And a part of her, while wary of the disorder, was quite taken with it.

Her crimson gaze was warm and bright, taking in the winding paths with affection. She loved nature—unbridled and free as it was. Here, there were no customers to entreet, no soldiers to avoid the gazes of. No parents demanding that she stand straighter whilst ignoring the obvious slouch in her brother's shoulders. It was just her and the herbs she wished to scout in anticipation of the harvesting season.

...

A howl caused her to stiffen.
And then there was a muffled sound, that of a lone voice. There was conviction in her words although Sakura could not discern a single one. Not clearly. After a moment, she steeled herself and crept closer.

”What comes next?” Came the wolf's voice, clear now.
As if on cue, Sakura's paw pressed into a thin branch and snapped it.

CRACK.

"the stars have melted to become your crown."


art & table ☓ bunny
@Rhiannon
(This post was last modified: 12-17-2022, 12:55 PM by ᓚᘏᗢ.)
12-12-2022, 01:02 AM
#2
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