[ P ] ice

i used to wake up with the moon

praying for the sun to die soon

i used to get caught in the clouds

with blood on my face, with the strangest smile

hoping for the wind to carry me away

Each step she takes across the ice is slow and methodical, always reaching forward to test before putting down any weight. It's only the very edges that are frozen over and Nyx wonders if she can make it all the way around without cracking the ice — she can feel the thinness of the ice, how easily it could break right under her if she is not careful, but that is what puts her on its surface tonight. The risk... how invigorating she finds the cold night air... the chilling, slightly damp sensation of ice beneath her pads... what a rush she knows she will feel if she touches the water, how the cold will sting.

Let us see if she is meant to know the feeling tonight. She is not worried about it, for she has faith in the Gods and knows whatever happens will be for her highest good. She thinks fate brought her here tonight for a reason, to give her one of the most stunning views to admire as she stalks across the sheet. Something to remind her how beautiful life can be.

The moon is nearly full and the sky is so clear, she can spy each and every star. If she stopped and searched the cosmos, she's sure she could identify each major constellation and recall the stories behind them. But tonight it isn't the sky that has her so captivated, but the crystal waters that reflect it — an ocean of inky blacks and midnight blues, silver moonlight dancing across its tranquil surface, the reflections of the stars scattered across the water like glitter.

In this moment, the Earth mirrors the heavens.

// @Rhiannon

greek vocab - translation notes

« θάνατος οὐδὲν διαφέρει τοῦ ζῆν »
death is no different than life.

T

he inky firmament shone bright with a nearly full moon and the shimmer of a billion stars and planets -- it all looked so close that one could almost touch it, while also being impossibly far away. There were times when Rhiannon felt so small, so miniscule compared with the greater world, and in these moments, the stormy wolfess was humbled: to be part of such an intricate circle, to be a witness to the wonders that so many of her kind did not bother to stop and see and admire. She was a part of this universe as it was a part of her. And tonight, she felt that connection more keenly than usual. Rhiannon was awake. Alive.


Perhaps it was the promise of a full moon mere nights away, a most magical time for the mystical she-wolf. The moon illuminated the forest, and each tree seemed alive, despite their barren branches. This night, Rhiannon was not accompanied by one of the girls who were her usual fellowship, sisters in name but not blood. Despite their closeness, the average sized fae still craved moments of exploration, these rare instances where something new happens to present itself. The silvery woman was open to the night, come what may.


And tonight promised to be such an experience, though Rhiannon did not yet know just this. The first indication arrived in the form of a cold breeze that ruffled her gray fur, carrying with it the scent of smoke and of leather, with the hint of spice. Ebony nostrils flared as she took in the unusual smell, not something one would simply find at random in a forest. The mingling of a feminine lupine scent was unmistakable, and without hesitation, Rhiannon followed her senses until she was at the edge of a lake.


The wolf was as dark as a moonless night, but her black fur shone in the moon’s luminescence. A creature of the night, perhaps, like Rhiannon herself, who then cleared her throat to alert the other to her presence, if the stranger had not already detected it herself.


@Nyx

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

i used to wake up with the moon

praying for the sun to die soon

i used to get caught in the clouds

with blood on my face, with the strangest smile

hoping for the wind to carry me away

If she reached forward with a paw, would it be like touching the sky, like having the power to shake up the heavens for a mere moment? With a lanky foreleg outstretched, the bottom of her paw just a hair's breadth from grazing the water's surface, Nyx wonders but deep down knows it would only be a pale shadow of the real thing. Touching would only leave her with cold, wet toes, nothing but a liability in these conditions.

She doesn't realize how still and lost in thought she is, drinking up the sight of the starry waters, until a soft clearing of the throat sounds out from somewhere near, breaking her out of her trance. She blinks a few times at the view of the lake before her, as she reminds herself where she is and what she's doing and acknowledges that tonight she is not alone. The most subtle of smiles tugs at her lips — how her mother would scold her for her dreamy ways, allowing someone to sneak up on her like this...

She is not worried, she never is, but the stranger's feminine fragrance is reassuring and the fresh, floral aroma wafting off of her is soothing and pleasing to the senses, with a smoky undertone that adds a little bit of dark intrigue. Nyx looks over nonchalantly to regard her company and pauses for just a moment to take in the view, eyes steadily sweeping over the other woman's body.

She is smaller than Nyx, with a gracile figure and a pelt like moonlight, highlighted in brilliant silver. One would think the moon was full tonight with how radiant she looks beneath its glow. "Kallistos," breathes Nyx without thought, as she takes a few steps nearer, forgetting everything she was doing just moments ago.

Views like this are best appreciated at a closer proximity. Nyx stops, her body at an angle to the stranger, allowing herself the best view but she is a gentleman — she only glances, but otherwise keeps her eyes trained on the woman's face. With a half-smile, Nyx says, "You surprised me. I thought I'd be alone out here."

// @Rhiannon

kallistos - lit. "most beautiful"

« θάνατος οὐδὲν διαφέρει τοῦ ζῆν »
death is no different than life.

T

he forest was silent -- the insects had vanished for the winter, to return with the summer’s sun. If there were others of her kind out there beyond herself and the ebony wolf, Rhiannon was not aware. Twin orbs of amethyst stared across the icy expanse to the dark one, and two ears perked forward as the other spoke a single word: "Kallistos.” While perhaps not able to speak Greek fluidly, Rhiannon’s mother had taught her enough of the ancient words to perceive the other’s meaning. A wisp of a smile traced her thin lips as the dark wolf moved closer.


"You surprised me. I thought I'd be alone out here." At this admission, spoken in a voice that was not overwhelmingly feminine, Rhiannon’s smile grew wider, her eyes fixed upon the ashen sights of the stranger. ”We are never truly alone,” the silver woman commented vaguely, in reverent, hushed tones. But Rhiannon did not elaborate further, at least, not presently. If the other understood, then she grasped Rhiannon’s meaning. And if not, then perhaps this would be a shorter conversation than Rhiannon had envisioned.


When she spoke again, her voice was fuller, perhaps deeper than one would imagine from an unassuming wolfess. ”Pardon me for the intrusion -- and if I am staring.” At this, her head dipped with feigned shyness. But her focus soon returned to the ebony form of the other, and she took in the nameless woman’s scent without shame. ”You appear just as the goddess Macha would, if she were among us in the flesh and fur.”


For if the great goddess of her foremother's were to appear before the pair, Rhiannon had no doubt that she would be a mirrored image of the wolf standing before her: Dark and strong, formidable but not foreboding in how she carried herself. Indeed, this stranger was a vision come to life. And judging from the look in the other’s pale, stormy eyes, Rhiannon wondered if the stranger thought the same. ”I am called Rhiannon.” She never used a false identity when meeting most women, instead saving her deceit for the males that roamed the island as if it were their own, and everything and everyone within it was their property.


@Nyx

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

i used to wake up with the moon

praying for the sun to die soon

i used to get caught in the clouds

with blood on my face, with the strangest smile

hoping for the wind to carry me away

”We are never truly alone.” Nyx's ears perk at the cryptic comment, the woman's hushed tone drawing her to step in a little more, to lean forward a tad, as if to listen closer.

From most others, such a comment might've come across as a mundane warning to watch one's back, but the veneration in the stranger's voice suggests something much more. It is incredibly evocative, the way the woman speaks and holds herself, as Nyx recalls the priestesses she knew in her youth, the time she'd spend at their shrine to Artemis. She smiles in recognition and says, "I suppose not, especially at these hours." A momentary glance up towards the starry sky, to appreciate the magick and mystery inherent to the night.

Then the woman continues on, apologizing for her intrusion and if she is staring with a demure dip of the head — some coy gesture, her gaze is not averted for long and when Nyx feels it on her again, she can't help but think it's a look of appreciation. "I don't mind at all," neither the intrusion nor the staring. Her own gaze subtly lowers a moment to trail over lean limbs before meeting with pools of amethyst... what a vivid hue, she's never seen eyes like that ever before in her life.

A somewhat more insinuating comment sits at the tip of Nyx's tongue, as she wants to say something along the lines of how some views are made to be admired or some such... but she thinks for a second too long and the moment passes her, with the woman telling her, ”You appear just as the goddess Macha would, if she were among us in the flesh and fur.”

"Oh?" Nyx smirks, head tilted and a brow arched, internally very pleased to know her instincts from before were correct. This one... she knows of things beyond the mortal realm. "I'm no stranger to goddess worship, but I have not heard of this... Macha before." She slows down slightly, taking care to pronounce the goddess's name correctly. She gestures invitingly with a forepaw. "Why don't you enlighten me?"

The silver woman introduces herself. "Rhiannon," murmurs Nyx, rolling the initial syllable, committing the name to memory. With a shallow bow of the head, she offers her own introduction, "Call me Nyx."

// @Rhiannon

greek vocab - translation notes

« θάνατος οὐδὲν διαφέρει τοῦ ζῆν »
death is no different than life.

”I

suppose not, especially at these hours." Rhiannon drank in the other’s deep vocal tones like a ceremonial wine, finely aged, and she responded with a soft mmm sound. The girl, painted in shades of pewter and white smoke, appraised the other’s features with renewed interest. Did the two strangers share mystical beliefs in common? It sometimes seemed there were few remaining that adhered to the ancient ways, and the prospect of finding another like-minded wolf made the encounter entirely worthwhile, even if the ebony woman decided to take a premature leave.


… But Rhiannon suspected that would not be the case. Her intuition urged her onward, and her curiosity moved the gray she-wolf to inch closer still to the other. Greedy eyes took in the sculpted form of the goddess-come-to-life now standing before her. Close enough to touch, but for now, Rhiannon savored this.


The Lowlander fae did not hide her pleasure at being asked about one of the feminine deities she held in such high regard. The other even tried with intentionality to say the divine name correctly, a minor detail that Rhiannon, of course, noticed and appreciated. ”Macha is an ancient goddess. She is one of the fiercest known, while also being emblematic of protection and intimacy. She is said to be as wild as the forests and just as beautiful, and she serves as a warrior who brings vengeance upon those who treat women and children unjustly.” The thought seemed to bring the young wolfess comfort, and an unconscious soft sigh parted her dark lips.


”She has always been a goddess I keep close,” she commented, still focused upon the dark features of the handsome wolf before her. ”Perhaps for obvious reasons,” she added with the trace of a melodic laugh as she leaned closer to nudge the other’s shoulder gently with her ivory chest. It was a seemingly innocent action, but Rhiannon was curious to see how Nyx would respond to the uninvited touch.


Nyx. Though this was a goddess from an ancient pantheon beyond that which Rhiannon had grown up with, she recognized the moniker instantly, and she gave a knowing nod. She commented simply: ”How appropriate.” Could it be any wonder than that the unknown wolf was named for a goddess of the night?


@Nyx

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

i used to wake up with the moon

praying for the sun to die soon

There is no challenge greater than trying to exercise self-restraint in times like this, when a woman comes so temptingly close to her and is looking at her like that. That look, so desirous, so inviting, warms Nyx's skin and floods her with the urge to close what little gap remains between them, to discover what Rhiannon's fur will feel like against her own. However, she manages to contain her desires, at least for now.

Rhiannon could only be teasing her, after all. It isn't uncommon, for women to toy with her in this manner, and yet... she can sense this is not the case here tonight. The look in her counterpart's amethyst eyes tells no lies.

Rhiannon gladly tells more about this goddess, Macha. Nyx finds herself with a small smile while she listens keenly. The other woman's cadence is rather delightful on the ears, making it a pleasure to take in this new knowledge. She learns that Macha is a fierce goddess of protection and intimacy, untamed and beautiful like the forest, the champion of women and children... What an honor it is, to remind this woman of a goddess with such qualities.

Silver eyes briefly avert at the sound of that soft sigh, but focus back on Rhiannon when she continues speaking. ”She has always been a goddess I keep close. Perhaps for obvious reasons.” She laughs and brushes her chest against Nyx's shoulder, her fur proving to be as soft as it looks. Could there be a more obvious invitation? Nyx leans in to touch the other woman's mane with her muzzle, breathing in her scent as she moves up by her ear.

She speaks, her tone soft and dulcet, "For which reasons? Your love for women or your passions?" She allows herself a second to savor the proximity before going on with little change to her inflection, "She reminds me in some aspects of my own favorite goddess, Artemis, for she, too, is a protector of women and girls. How deeply I admire her..."

Nyx lingers for only a moment longer before leaning back, still as close as they were before the touch barrier was broken. Rhiannon finds Nyx's name appropriate, a comment which puts a smirk on the dark wolf's face. "You're familiar with my gods, then?" asks Nyx, obviously pleased.

@Rhiannon

i used to get caught in the clouds, with blood on my face, with the strangest smile

hoping for the wind to carry me away

R

hiannon would watch those dark features closely as the other listened with interest that seemed genuine. Was it any wonder the silvery femme preferred the company of woman? It was so much more enjoyable than encountering any conceited brute with his mind set on claiming a female, or showing off just how “powerful” he is. The creature of the night she had discovered was attractive in ways that the other sex could never achieve, her scent filling Rhiannon’s senses like a drug. Naturally, it was pleasing to find someone interested in the old ways. But that was not all that Rhiannon found exciting about this stranger.


A shiver ran up the she-wolf’s spine, but not because of the cold night air, as Nyx teased: "For which reasons? Your love for women or your passions?" At this, Rhiannon hummed softly, a wild look in her violet eyes, an untameable smile on her delicate features. ”Is there a difference?” Her comment hinted toward her amusement, the cadence in her low voice changing when again her lips parted to speak: ”And if I may be so bold, I suspect that you understand this intimately, dear obsidian.” Her sultry thoughts could have been left unspoken that both had… experience, so to speak. But why leave unuttered that which was so tantalizing? From the look in her ghostly eyes, the warmth of her breath…


These were not entirely new sensations for Rhiannon, feeling someone so near, emboldened to proceed. She loved freely in the opposite manner that her cold, controlling natal group had instructed. But this Nyx was different, somehow, in self-assurance and conduct. Plus, she smelled so damn good. This night was different, and there would never again be another just like it. Here, there was nothing to lose and nothing to win, only time that could never be repeated.


It seemed Rhiannon’s knowledge of the old world names pleased Nyx, who leaned away to ask, "You're familiar with my gods, then?" Pools of amethyst closed as she felt a frigid winter’s breeze ruffle her fur, causing Rhiannon to lean closer into the warmth provided by the charming Nyx, retaking the space between them as if it was her right to do so.


”Of course. In my earliest months, I was introduced to the greatest goddesses, those whom the ancients relied upon and cherished, as well. Besides,” she continued, low tones melodic as she spoke in measure like a poet. ”As it was told to me, a deity can wear many names. I am, like you, a child of the night. In this way, our goddess is one and the same.”



@Nyx

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

i used to wake up with the moon

praying for the sun to die soon

There's a spark in those violet eyes that cannot be missed and an electrifying smile across those lips... a sight which pleases Nyx so much it's nearly criminal. She sports an unrestrained smirk of her own, as Rhiannon tells her, ”Is there a difference?” Nyx hums as if in consideration — she supposes not, when it's an erotic kind of love. She had been referring to a more innocent feeling of affinity or sisterhood, but she must admit... this interpretation is much more tantalizing.

”And if I may be so bold, I suspect that you understand this intimately, dear obsidian.” What a provocative remark, loaded with temptation...

"I do, very well," purrs Nyx, gazing upon the enchantress with lidded eyes, intoxicated by the woman's beauty and allure, enhanced beneath the moon's glow. Her glance lowers briefly, appreciatively. In a low, husky murmur, she continues, "It's my only weakness, my desires... but life is too short to deny ourselves, is it not? If we were not meant to indulge, the Gods wouldn't have made women so beautiful or their touch so pleasurable." Her words get a bit breathy towards the end, as her thoughts begin to wander...

Hearkening back to thoughts from earlier tonight about how fate must have brought her to this lake for a reason, she thinks how lucky she is to get to enjoy the company of such a stunning woman tonight, who seems to bear herself in all the right ways to stir her longings. Not to mention, there is just something about her... an air of mystery and intrigue.

Nyx pulls away, breaking contact for only a moment before it's quickly reclaimed, as Rhiannon leans onto her — can't get enough? Nyx simpers at the thought and savors the feeling of the other woman's body against her own. She takes the liberty of trailing the back of her paw down Rhiannon's foreleg before letting it rest on top of her paw.

She listens (albeit a bit distractedly) as Rhiannon explains how she was taught about the greatest goddesses from a very early age. Nyx feels mildly curious as to what sort of education she received in her youth, as she seems well-learned, but not curious enough to ask. ”As it was told to me, a deity can wear many names. I am, like you, a child of the night. In this way, our goddess is one and the same.”

"Hmm. I had never thought of this in that way. All my life I'd known only the theoi... we did not acknowledge any names for them other than our own," says Nyx, considering the perspective offered to her, thinking back to those months she lived under her enemy's rule. A deity can wear many names.

With a curious tilt of the head, she asks, "Do you worship only Macha?"

@Rhiannon
theoi - gods

i used to get caught in the clouds, with blood on my face, with the strangest smile

hoping for the wind to carry me away

R

hiannon could feel the woman’s warmth as if it were day and the sun was shining. She could hear her own allure mirrored in the other’s tones, murmured in a distinct, low octave that was not decidedly feminine, but still produced that electric feel, like a tempest. “"It's my only weakness, my desires... but life is too short to deny ourselves, is it not? ..." The heart within her ribcage beat faster as Nyx spoke. She did nothing to mask the restlessness the bold words had inspired, and her tail whipped behind her. The feel of the other’s larger paw upon her own was a jolt of lightning that coursed through her body.


The femme was happy to oblige the other’s curiosity. It was the Feminine Divine, after all, that had shaped Rhiannon to be the woman she was today -- in spite of the males who had oppressed her, despite the pointless rules that dictate the lives of those willing to follow.


”Macha is not the only one, no. There are facets of the Feminine Divine. Arianrhod is queen of the heavens, the stars. She is the weaver of cosmic time and of fate.” Her solemn tone hinted toward her near-certain belief in kismet. ”Cerridwen, however, is my familial deity, she who my foremothers revered. She is the white witch, who gifts magick to those she deems worthy.”


”When the moon is full, we honor her.” Her violet sights flicked upward toward the waxing moon. A full moon was only nights away, and though it was an occasion that passed each month, it was still a time of veneration and celebration, a night of clarity during transitions as the brightness of the moon goddess illuminated their paths. During such times, Rhiannon was at her most intuitive, most inspired. ”What do you do to mark the occasion?” After all, it would be strange for a moon child like the dark wolf before her to not be tuned into the energies of the moon and the nighttime.


Despite her previous insistence for as close of proximity as possible to the dark wolf, it was Rhiannon who would first pull away, still wearing a smile across her pale muzzle. There were other matters to attend to this hallowed night. But with Arianrhod’s blessing, the stormy femme knew that she would see Nyx again. She was silent as she watched for the other's reaction to this sudden difference.


@Nyx

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck