She Walks With The Moon

ECLIPSA SERENITY
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Fur would ruffle along her back as a disturbance in the atmosphere would attract her attention, collecting every thought away from the means of tracking some herbs she had been scouting for a few hours now. All of it would be forgotten when curiosity would guide her paws well away from her sister, going in the pull of tension on the wind tickling her every bit of skin as it caressed past her dense furs. Soon that wind would be decorated in the harsh scent of different irons, some predator and some prey as she crept further and further into the heart of the forest to a spot she was surprised she had never been before. She could smell that it was frequented by Mother Wisteria, however, the hag’s scent was so prominent and written into the very earth she reluctantly stood upon. Her tail coiled behind her as she thought of turning in another direction, not wishing to stumble upon the woman potentially seducing some man and slaughtering him now but something wasn’t quite right.

The blood, it smelled of Mother. It smelled of prey. It didn’t smell of sacrifice or sex. There was no other wolf scent anywhere nearby besides that of the sisters and it would make her steps pick back up toward the direction it was the strongest. What could have happened, it was an enigma she wanted answers to and soon she would come across the scene.

A ritual for summons rested on the woodland floor, drawings made of blood and many gifts lay around the area in perfect places, just where they should be to ask for a soul to answer their call. At the center of it was a coat of marigold painted in crimson, a branch sticking out past the form and up toward the sky. Slowly she moved toward it, circling the markings to try to better understand possibly who this had been for. A set of flowers that rested closest would make her skin crawl again, her ears perking as uneven gaze shifted back to the lifeless form before narrowing as she raised her head to look down at the crone. She would also take note of them not being branches but antlers that carved into the woman, sealing her death.

A twitch of a smile would form along her lips, finding it quite beautiful. “Love and loss, written in blood. Manifest be, a holy matrimony. Celebrate,” she rejoiced toward her sister as she would enter the little clearing to join her.

code by claerie