+- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5)
+--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11)
+--- Thread: Moonstone Quarry And the winds got the water running wild (/showthread.php?tid=65613)
And the winds got the water running wild - Fleur - April 12, 2025
Tag for ref mostly but welcome to join if you so decide! <3 Dated for whenever the altar is ready for visitation! If something doesn't make sense about my inference of the altar, lemme know! I just had to get this out haha
Sleep had left her earlier than usual, and try as she might, Fleur had not been able to return to her dreams.
So, she rose and made her way to the place where the remembrance of Callyope lay. She settled quietly before the altar, the worn piece of antler clenched in her palm. A marmot pelt wrapped around her neck, and elk fur lay draped across her shoulders to ward off the lingering cold of night as she drank it in.
The altar was beautiful—clearly built with care. Offerings lay scattered around it, arranged with gentle precision by those who had loved the Seiðkona and wished to honor what she had meant to them. To be loved so deeply, even in death—or lost to the Wilds and beyond—was a gift Fleur could only hope to deserve when her own time came.
But for now, guilt tugged at her heart. A heaviness she couldn’t quite name had settled in her chest. She came here seeking to ease it—to pay her respects to the wolf who had helped shape this pack with @Solharr , who had been its heart, the one who held the soul of the Hárkonungr.
A sigh slipped from her, breath rushing out all at once. Then she inhaled—deep, steady—the scent of hyacinths filling her lungs. And she began.
"I'm sure you know why I'm here, if you've truly been out there listening. Before all of this... when I washed ashore, I—I had nothing. No memories. No family. Nothing, Callyope. I had friends for a time, but they left. And once again, I was alone."
Tears welled in her eyes, the memory of that lonely arrival clinging to her words like mist.
"I still don’t know who I was before. Even after a year—when Solharr found me—I was still just... surviving. Just a nobody. I suppose I still am. But now... now I feel like I finally belong."
A small, watery smile formed at the thought. "And Solharr is the reason for that. I've told him as much, of course."
She paused, drawing a shaky breath, as if something inside her had cracked open—unleashing everything she had kept bottled up.
"Callyope... I don't know what love feels like. I wish you were here to tell me. Because I know you’ve felt it. And—" her voice wavered, "—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I’m here because of him. He still breathes for you, and I would never want you—or him—to think that I’m trying to change that."
Her voice softened, reverent.
"He still loves you. And I’m glad for it. Truly. Everyone deserves something that enduring… that beautiful."
She stepped closer, until she stood within arm’s reach of the altar. Her gaze searched—hoping, aching—for any sign that the spirit of Callyope might be near.
"But I need to know—" her voice dropped to a whisper "—is the way my breath catches when he speaks the start of something real? Is this fire inside me, the one that burns brighter in his presence... is that the beginning of love?"
Her voice quivered with vulnerability.
"Am I just a lost girl, chasing a dream of something steady? Or... is it more? Because if it is, I don’t think I can move forward without knowing you’ve heard me."
Carefully, she lifted the piece of antler in her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it. Then, with reverence, she laid it at the base of the altar.
Eyes closed, she shook her head.
"I cannot—will not—replace what’s been lost. His love for you is eternal. It will never fade."
A pause. Then she looked upward, voice hushed but unwavering.
"Yet... I burn for him too. I burn the way lightning ignites dry wood—sudden and consuming. I am but a moth to his flame. The tides that worship his moon. And I would follow his light, because I know... he would guide me home."
Fireflies had begun to drift through the air, dancing on the winds currents. Some had descended on her, brushing against her cheeks, the tips of her ears. She smiled at their gentle touch.
As the winds faded and left her in the stillness of love’s memory, she offered her final, whispered plea.
"Will you allow me this, Callyope? Will you allow him to make space for someone like me?"