Blackwater Islands sell the kids for food

the trip from the bloodied forest to the isles was a lengthy one. the speaker kept at a slow pace, afraid that the @Bridget would fall behind if she went to fast. morgana could not afford that.

the god —whoever it was, whatever it may be — has granted her yet another gift in the form of this ill soul. she was a gift that was to be passed from one hand to the next.

dear melena, morgana could not wait to see. this was the teaching moment she craved for many moons.

as soon as they crossed the land bridge, the speaker rose her head and called for @The Listener.

set sometime after this thread. @Ingram @Rasha feel free to lurk/join :D

the listener was not far. her mortal bones called for relief, for rest after the long journey home. she slept often. but she was not asleep when morgana called; she was charting the forest she had dubbed the druids' grove, learning its secrets. the keeper had been at her side, but their paths split sometime before morgana's howl reached the listener. she could not have said how long it had been. time seemed to blur in the misty woodland.

when she emerged to find the sun slumping lazily in a colorful sky and the island swathed in shadow, the listener knew that this place had truly been blessed. time had ceased to exist among the twisted mossy trees, passing all the while in the world outside.

her speaker came bearing a gift. a pale sickly thing, powerfully built and beautiful but wilted against morgana's side like a drooping flower. the listener drew close, whiskers grazing golden throat as she took in the scent of her. she snaked round the pair, wild black fur skimming the flank of the stranger and then morgana as she mapped their course by scent. the listener did not recognize the tree-sap scent of the forest, but noted it, and the musk of inland earth upon them both. the woman was alone, but the speaker's scent was heavy upon her.

bring her, the listener commanded, wasting no time in asserting control. whatever morgana's purpose had been in bringing her here, she belonged to the unnamed god now. the prophet turned with a purposeful sharpness to her stride, already formulating a plan in her mind. this interlude would only further delay what must be done, but perhaps this was meant to be part of it. she would lead them to a hollow within a massive fallen tree not far from the shore, a dry and untouched place she had cleared and taken as her own temporary den some days ago.

Feel free to powerplay her & skip me as you like <3 oof she rolled low - 4

Bridget barely registered when they crossed a scent line, though somewhere in the back of her mind she noticed the taste of the sea. We made it, Teya. Now she could sleep. But just as she was about to crumple to the ground, the wolf (Teya, but not) moved at her side. Further.

She tried, but her body had had enough, and she only managed one step before her forelegs buckled beneath her. She landed with a heavy thud, chest-first, and at least managed not to roll completely prone. But she couldn't force her traitor legs to work and, after a few attempts, stopped trying. Unless they forcibly moved her, she was staying here.

cameo; unless otherwise needed ( just tag me! ) :-)

where the listener went, the keeper was never far behind; unless commanded otherwise. ingram shadows her and when he reaches the meeting grounds, his seaglass gaze touches first upon morgana and then to the gold draped stranger that morgana had brought with her. she looks unwell, from as far as ingram can tell at the distance between them and as he watches trikova draw nearer to the stranger he ghosts forward as if in silent protest. was the golden woman ill? was she just malnourished from travel?

but refrains.

instead, he continues to linger as their ever vigilant shadow until asked away or to another task.

the listener emerged from the forest beyond, their form illuminated by the hues of the golden hour.

all their attention was fixed onto the golden girl. such careful examination pleased the older woman. her command pleased her even more so.

morgana turned to their gift, who had soon slumped down at her feet. she did not hesitate to grab her scruff and move her along towards wherever the listener led.

a cold swell in the air, a vast shift in the atmosphere as if the moon loomed far too close to the earth. the keeper.

the listener relaxed under the familiar weight of his iron presence, and swept toward her chosen den with little regard for the ailing woman's plight — save a gesture to @Ingram to lighten morgana's burden.

when the woman was nestled within the den, the listener turned to her speaker. she is ill. make her well. do what must be done, whatever it takes lurked under her words, unspoken but nonetheless powerful. i will seek guidance from unnamed god.

the tag is for reference, ingram doesn't need to be posted, but i can edit/remove the powerplay if needed <3

She put up no fight as she was dragged, but she was little more than dead weight either. She made no noise or indication that she noticed, even when her inflamed leg was dragged along with her. It was agonizing, but everything she had she'd spent getting this far. She was non responsive to most things.

She saw Leticia leaving her, walking away, but even in her mind she couldn't move. Wait! Help, please.... The other wolf didn't turn around.

The poison in her blood had given her nothing but nightmares lately. She was somewhat aware that she was dreaming and that, in reality, there were others nearby who might actually help. In either space she was stuck motionless, as though submerged in tar, but still thankfully able to breathe.

the three of them go, silently, to where the listener rests. morgana set the girl down gently and looked over her with a meticulous gaze.

her leg. her eyes lock onto the wound. it was a sore sight. it smelled of death. the sickness is festering within it.

and following a deep breath she states; we must rid of it. such a gruesome task was said so casually. or she may die here.

the speaker assessed the situation quickly. the leg would be removed. sickness had destroyed it. the listener watched the ill woman with a grave expression, imagining the chaos that must be churning within the world beyond blackwater's shores. this woman was proof of it. the druids would need to act quickly.

the listener must answer the call of duty. tonight, at the shore where the otherworld met the realm of mortals.

keeper, make her still, the listener commanded @Ingram. i will do it. tell me how.

ironically i get squeamish about reading or writing "medical" horror/gore, so i would highly appreciate if we could keep it quick and vague on technical details <3 @ morgana's player: you have permission to powerplay the listener in any way necessary.

at trikova's command, ingram moves forward to do as commanded. he looms over her like a quiet shadow, teeth grasping her scruff tightly ( should she not fight ) — though not so tight as to draw blood. he would adjust his grasp upon her as needed as the two women worked to presumably to save the stranger's life.

no prob! Last one for me

There were some things, even as out of it as she was, that couldn't be ignored.  This was without a doubt one of them.

As they began, Bridget convulsed violently against it.  She struggled instinctually against them but the fight was frantic and feeble.  It wasn't a hard task for Ingram to pin her down and keep her in place.

Then everything began to slow as shock set in and, by the end of it, she would have fallen ominously still.  She was going to survive the ordeal but, as they finished the deed, that coin was still in the air.  Only time would tell how it would fall.

morgana had been willing to do the job even before she spoke of it. things like this were commonplace in her life after all. she took a step forward when the listener ordered ingram (she called him keeper. morgana noted this, though did not give it a second’s more thought in the moment) but came to an abrupt halt.

the listener would do this. they insisted. morgana parted her lips to protest. this would be a gruesome ordeal, she knew. part of her wished to shield melena from it. the will was intense. strangely so. it took morgana aback, both mentally and physically.

yes.. of course.

this must happen. the second half of morgana’s heart knew. listener, ears of a god who wished for blood. they must grow familiar with it.

so she’d bury this blooming protection. she’d usher her close to their first patient. through this gruesome act she’d be their guide.

fading to black! @The Listener + @Ingram i could achieve here or we can keep going. let me know :)