sonder spring 1716

Blood of the Covenant

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Banduri

citizen of
born under
age
4 years old
gender
Female
size
Medium
scent
Blood & Incense
culture
Highlander
home
Fae Forest
writer
Jamie



She could feel the change in her body, the genesis of a new cycle. The Hooded Spirits guided her through the solstice and through the veil of the wilds, and now, she was complete.


Yvaine was pregnant. And she knew it.


“Nantosuelta, aon air fàs lìonmhor.”* The witch’s voice spilled from her throat in a guttural chant, deep but echoing with femininity. “Aon air fàs lìonmhor. Aon air fàs lìonmhor. Nighean, Màthair, Cailleach.”** Her eyes pierced the night, two moons beneath the third that circled overhead, promising a future, a rebirth. The spring breeze that stirred, shaking the gnarled branches in all directions, carried an ominous chill. And the fresh blood that trickled down Yvaine’s sultry chest felt all the warmer for it.


Her voice rose, a passionate crescendo building to portents of power and doom and life all the same.


“Aon air fàs lìonmhor! Aon air fàs lìonmhor!”


She cried with the cadence of a lover, of a mother, of an ancient hag summoning the fae from the shadows. It was the wind that shook the trees, but it could have been her voice. Rolling clouds spelled a coming storm, but not for hours yet. There was plenty of time to revel in her decision: it was time. Time to call together all the sisters across Rionnach who yearned for the freedom of the ancient ways. Her children would not be raised alone. She wanted her coven, her people. She wanted a strong force to help her raze King Adamh’s false throne, to use for kindling to keep her puppies warm. It was time to fulfill promises and initiate new pacts.


And so she prayed to the goddess of fertility who blessed her, Nantosuelta, who was just another face of The Morrigan. Death begat new life, and in turn, she would use this blessing to sacrifice the unworthy to the fire, the earth, the triple goddess herself. Now, one would become many. Yvaine cast her head back, releasing a beautiful howl that cut through the night.


War was coming, and they should not be alone.
table ; bunny

*”Nantosuelta, one become many”
**”Maiden, Mother, Crone

@Rhiannon @Lorelei @Onyxia @Luneth @Wisteria @Nimue (if she wants to be like "what's this now?" lol) Please tag if I missed anyone else!! <3
05-10-2023, 05:52 PM
#1

Healer

citizen of
born under
age
4 years old
gender
Female
size
Extra Small
scent
Clover
culture
Outlander
threadlog
encounters
writer
Moss


LUNETH FEN
THE GIRL WHO CHASED THE MOON

The forest was a strange place, alive with an energy that Luneth had never felt before. It was a peculiar energy, like when an eclipse fell over the celestial bodies in the sky, the air alive and writhing with it. The whole forest smelled of what she assumed to be magick, a strangeness that she had smelled only a few times before in her life, back in her home.

Gods touched this forest in some way, she realized, or at least assumed must be the case.

Yvaine’s word had reached her only a few days before. A meeting, in this strange place. She’d found herself wandering in the Highlands already, so it hadn’t been hard to find and explore a little until it was time. Words pulled her from her thoughts, making her darkened almost purple-hued eyes tilt up towards the trees that loomed over her. It was Yvaine’s voice, she knew, calling her sisters to her.

“Nantosuelta, aon air fas lionmhor,” the woman’s voice carried ominously throught the trees, her words little more than a chant. Luneth understood none of the meaning, but she listened as if she could, black eyes wide, entranced, as she wandered through the moonlit forest to the location that Yvaine had started her chant from.. “Aon air fas lionmhor. Aon air fas lionmhor. Nighean, Mathair, Cailleach.”

Luneth peered through the trees as she walked, eventually coming to where she could see the other woman’s eyes glowing in the moonlight, a second and third moon in their own right as the first moon shone brightly above. The scene before her was peculiar, one that Luneth had never seen before. But one that she trusted was needed at the moment. The other woman was bathed in blood, the hues of her chest crimson despite the silver of the moonlight.

The chanting continued on, the petite woman wondering — yearning to know — what the words meant. It was a language she had never heard before, save for in this land, but it was one she wanted to understand, although she doubted she’d ever be able to speak it. The words would feel heavy and awkward on her tongue.

Luneth came to settle herself in a seated position, a short ways away, out of the way, as she watched. She stared, somewhat awestruck, at the other woman, her gaze shifting only as others arrived, faces she had never met before.


"Speak" 'Think'


code by claerie
05-28-2023, 04:50 AM
#2

High Priestess

citizen of Saora
born under
age
6 years old
gender
Female
size
Medium
scent
Lavender and bonfire smoke
culture
Lowlander
home
Fae Forest
threadlog
Witch's Brew
writer
Rilo

B

eneath the light of the moon, the priestess hunted. The forest was dark and ominous, silent as a graveyard – a perfect evening for the creatures of the night to emerge. Rhiannon was alone. This was her usual state: in silence, solitude. But there was something in the air of the Fae Forest that night, an aura of premonition unlike any she had experienced in many years. When the Sisterhood still remained…

When she found her prey, a young fawn that had been left in a thicket as its mother went… where, exactly? Such a pity that the poor thing was all alone, ignorant of its own fate as Rhiannon crouched down into a stalking position. In one powerful leap, she was upon the tiny deer. The creature’s screams were swiftly silenced by the she-wolf’s faws upon its throat.

The animal fell silent and still, just as the melodious call of her own kind caught Rhiannon’s attention. Her eyes raised to the moon overhead, with her kill still hanging lifeless in her maw. Briefly, the tempestuous woman would hesitate, for she knew the source of the howl. It was a choice between clinging fast to solitude, or… something else.

The fawn was easily carried as Rhiannon found her way to the gathering sight, where an unknown black wolfess already waited. When Yvaine came into view, Rhiannon dropped her prize, tongue tasting the blood on her fangs from the fatal blow. With half of a smile, she addressed Yvaine with a nod. ”Is it the solstice already?” She knew that it was not, and her violet sights sparkled with wicked delight. This was no accidental encounter. Which begged the question...

What was the purpose of this meeting?



@Yvaine @Luneth
art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck


06-11-2023, 01:50 PM
#3
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