Willow & Winter’s Mirth [SAMHAIN]

[OOC: Edited for length and scene detail]

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Winter hugged Melrose gently; what grasses poked out like pine needles from the forest floor were sharp and unkind, an soft and untrained paw easily jabbed with needless injury. Nature was wanton as such, setting tiny traps this way, Moro mused in the bright afternoon. As she meandered, her breaths came out as deep white clouds alongside the speckled snowfall, her steps lazily swept this way as she sauntered about the trees--oaks, rowan, hawthorn and--of interest--willow. Móro grazed her steps along the banks of a frozen pond amidst the trees, looking up at the branches, digging in the snow to look at the leaf litter and to dig up roots. Her eyes narrowed, analytical and busied, before she moved on to another nearby spot.

The sound of her work echoed amongst the bare wood skin and bark strips of some bare trees and the evergreens as the air was almost completely still here; there was, occasionally, the breeze from the coast which dulled the sharp edge of the cold. It made a mild haze cling to the forest floor and make magical the frozen pond. Moro's eyes glanced up from her work and to the pond before stuttering back down at the leaf litter with a sigh. She had half a mind to try skating again, and the thought iself made her smile. For now though, Móro‘s mind sought out bark, particularly that of willow bark, should the deer not have already chewed through the supply, she bitterly mused. With her cousin in tow, Móro had meant for this venture to be more of a education in plants than anything, to help teach the year-old.

Ah but to be a yearling and young again. Móro chuckled softly. Truth was, she’d lost track of the poor thing a few minutes ago. She was not quite sure if this was her doing or if Juniper had wandered off. Both were apt, and Rhiannon’s reaction was sure to follow. Anything along the lines of a reprimand, she imagined, but Rhiannon has softened with gentle peace, for now. Moro walked up to a tree and pawed near the roots, removing the snow. Peace. As if in doubt, Móro paused as the thought clung even more coldly to her pelt. How much of that was left in the world, or in their little group. She resumed digging, and then, There! Finally, some bark and not just bare wood.

Moro nibbled some, the sickly sour of earth and bitter willow fresh in her mouth. Fantastic; its disgusting~. Moro inclined her head back up and tensed her ears to listen for Juniper before she gave her call. She wouldn’t want to interrupt the fae’s fun, verily~.

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"Words Wandering."
Terse Thinking.
Pawsteps Padding.
"The Entourage Echoes."

N

ose to the ground, paws light upon the snow, Juniper felt energetic today, as if the cool winter winds chased her into a gambol, flirting with her, planting a kiss on her cheek with nippy precision. Although growing into an elegant young lady, she still harbored those puppy tendencies, the desire to play and cavort, dancing with the birds and racing with the hares that lived in the forested meadows. A smile formed on her lips, lifting her spirits further as she pounced from snowdrift to snowdrift.

“Oof!” she cried, tumbling with a short giggle as Moro’s call interrupted her frolicking. “I’m coming, Moro!” She was here to learn, after all, impressed with her cousin’s incredible knowledge of the land, even in the wintertime, when most plants and vegetation waited for the sun beneath the frigid layers of snow. Juniper trotted up to Moro, her green eyes alight with curiosity. “So what did you find here?”

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

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"I'm coming, Moro!" A grin flashed across the white fae's face as the sounds of Juniper bounding through the woodland faded in and out, paw scraping against the ice and snow, that wonderful PHLMF with each bound. Moro hesitated to reminisce in the brief moment, thinking of Juniper's bold steps at six months when they finally met. Whimsy, now, better suited the little one. Don't call her little one, Moro chided herself as Juniper appeared, She's ill suited for the broader world, surely, but she is not little. She dipped her head as Juniper approached, a quick bob of respect--an old habit. and the little on--... Lady Juniper was quick to ask questions, "So what did you find here?”

She inclined her neck, angled it to face Juniper while leaning toward her hole. "Willow," she crooned in a way that wished for spring. "This is a tree even Nimue would like~," she teased her absent sister, "since it grows near water and drapes long over the surface; you may remember it?" Moro's eyes cast up at the higher branches, how they loomed over the pond, clumped together with snowfall caught in their lazing boughs. If the tree were older some of the branches may have draped into the pond and become frozen therein with winter's sighs. Perhaps next year~! For now, "It'll flower in the spring, I think? But the flowers are not what's important. What's important," and she lightly stomped her foot near the hole she dug with the exposed roots, "is the bark. Normally I prefer the tree bark, but we make due in winter." We, indeed, and her thoughts briefly fluttered to the College of Eolas and their teachings.

"I would love to bore you with how I know this is Willow, and we'll get to that, but first, some fun." Mischief flickered in Moro's eyes. "Willow has a particular taste. It's bitter. Awful, really. It's the taste of hunger and grass," and that was being generous; some Willow even tasted like urine, but more watery than sour--really, it depended on the time of year, flowering, etc. "It's good for headaches and pains, but, if you're brave, it's safe to take a small bite from the root, here," again, Moro tapped with her foot near the exposed root. "If you don't want to, though, that's alright, too." Her gaze was open and welcoming to whatever the li--... whatever Juniper wanted to do.

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"Words Wandering."
Terse Thinking.
Pawsteps Padding.
"The Entourage Echoes."

S

he beamed at her cousin, eyes alight with the verdant summer sun, despite the winter that swept across the lands; even her coat, the warmest browns and coppers, a dusting of cinnamon, was a bright contrast to the frigid scene. Juniper was optimistic when comfortable, and, certainly, when under the safe watch of her trusted band of sisters, she was often vivacious.

“Willow?” she said, studying the tree, a majestic specimen that clearly yearned for the spring rains. “Oh, maybe we should bring a sample back for Nimue. Do you think she would like that?” Her thoughts were always with others, begging happiness and satisfaction for those whom she cared for most—truly, Juniper felt indebted to her small makeshift family. They were not all related by blood—only by a common purpose, an oath to one another.

She rather liked flowers, and she tipped her head to the head at Moro’s comment, wondering what could be more important than those beautiful blossoms. The roots? Hm. Well, that was interesting.

Juniper wrinkled her nose, already picking up the acrid scents that her cousin described; this would not be a pleasant plant to chew on. Nevertheless, she wanted to be brave and bold like her sisters were, and she puffed her chest out with a deep breath. “I’ll try it!” she said. Any herbalist would have to test the medicines she prepped for her patients, yeah? She leaned in close, cautiously, knowing full well that the willow could not hurt her but behaving suspiciously all the same. She parted her jaws and took a nibble with her canines, selecting a small portion of the root before she shook her head, gritted her teeth, and tore a small piece off. “This isn’t so bad—”

Anyone could tell by the expression on her face that Juniper was bluffing. Her eyes watered as the bitter filaments filled her mouth. She wanted to spit it out, but she was determined to swallow it. “It’s… really not so… bad…”

@Móro Elainen

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

"M

y, my, Juniper...had I known you enjoyed Willow Bark so much, I might've ensured it came with your supper."

Long, slender legs carried a tall form that moved as easily as a shadow would along the trail that the two females had so generously created for her. Nimue had been watching the two from afar simply observing the interaction as the eldest passed the her wisdom of the trees to their youngest.

She had been present long enough to hear the eager learner to suggest bringing a bit of their discovery back to present to her. Her brows had risen in surprise to even hear such a suggestion from the child, her eyes narrowing while internally calculating what meaning was held behind these words.

Nimue had tuned back in just as Moro offered Juniper a sample. Of course, being the naïve girl she was, she not only partook, but she attempted to conceal her dislike. Any fool would've been able to tell she was lying, though the reasoning behind it was something to consider. Was she worried she might hurt Moro's feelings? Or that she might seem a student less dedicated to the knowledge of an herbalist? Those were musings for another time.

For now, Nimue allowed herself the amusement of watching Juniper's face contort in disgust as she became familiar with the acrid flavor. The look on her face, nearly cracked a smile on the gloomy woman's face as she rolled with laughter on the inside. At this moment is when she glided up behind Juniper to offer her tease before turning her attention to Moro with a glint in her eye. "It would make a lovely palate cleanser, don't you think?"

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

T

wo hares, plumpened in their attempt to survive the harsh winter, hung loosely from the jaws of the hunter. The sacrifice of the prey ensured the survival of her own. It was all as natural as the passing of seasons. The hares, she assumed, had been mates, one unwilling to push onward without their companion.

In the midst of the darkness and cold of winter, Rhiannon felt a peculiar but distinct sense of joy. She was not afraid of the night, and as she traversed the hard-packed snow beneath her paws, her ears pricked forward. From here, the sound of her sisters greeted her, urging her forward.

Fate had brought them together -- of all the wolves Rhiannon could have met, it was the ones before her, dear souls who were now family. Rhiannon trusted the guidance of the goddesses, that feminine divine that drove her onward on the most difficult of days. There could be no doubt for their responsibility in shaping the present, and an unconscious smile appeared as the she-wolves came into view.

She set the hares down as she neared the gathered group, unawares of the bark taste testing that she had barely missed. Her expression was pensive as she looked from one wolfess to the next. ”Sisters,” she began with a gentle smile reserved for only a select few. ”Yule will soon be upon us. For some, this will be her first winter solstice,” she stated, with a nod cast in the direction of Juniper, their youngest. ”It is the longest night, but has always been my favorite sabbat, a reminder that even the darkest twilight will fade to the warmth of dawn. It is all in balance, as all aspects of life must be” she explained, though she knew that others among those gathered there already knew this much. But for Juniper, it would be her first Yule.

A far-off look clouded the woman’s amethyst sights for only a second as she remembered how different it had once been. But her thoughts soon returned to the present, and her smile broadened. ”I look forward to celebrating with you, in whatever manner your ancestors have observed the occasion.” It was an invitation for the others to share -- Rhiannon would, as well, but she was interested to hear from them. It was their first holy day to be observed as a coven, after all.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck