Blackwater Islands the druids of blackwater

cold winds blew over the islands of black waters. winds that tasted of salt and rot. long brittle black fur twisted under it in a mockery of the dark violence of the water all around, the listener's gaunt form battered under each shrieking icy gust. she pressed her flank to @Ingram's and shuddered, overcome with nameless emotion. above, the flutter of wings; her feathered companion was stark against the glow of sunset, circling high above the druids who stood at the edge of their new home.

ahead, past mounds of kelp and driftwood crusted with barnacles, the woods were shrouded in mist and shadow, and startlingly green beneath it all. moss clung to twisted trees and carpeted the earth below, creeping under ferns and strange bushes. the chill in the air bit through fur and flesh, yes, but it was no colder than where the druids had come from. and there was life here, and none of the strange white blankets of water turned hard and cold and pale. no, the water here was black, wild and dangerous as the listener herself.

blackwater, the listener's gaze swept over ingram, @Morgana, and @Rasha. ours.

through the bone chilling water they make their way to the island trikova called their home. he offers a small rumble of affection — pitched low and meant for her ears only — as he felt her shudder against his side.

up close, the island looks no more inviting than it had from a distance — which ingram thought was rather perfect. he'd feel right at home with the first impression of the island and for the first time he felt a strange sort of kinship with the isolated island.

closer yet and the curtain of mist and shadow parts to expose the secrets initially hid. ingram gives a careful glimpse at the hidden green as the mist writhed like a living entity 'round them; quietly beckoning them further. despite his very initial reservations of island living he finds himself eager to explore what secrets the island held further in, towards its heart.

blackwater, trikova names it, names them and he looks to her then for a lingering moment before casting a glimpse towards the speaker and druid, silent and watchful towards their expressions.

she couldn’t help but watch them. how melena took refuge at the boy’s side as salty winds blew towards them. morgana would have happily shielded her from this frigid tempature. she would shield her from anything.

dreamwalker. listener. melena.

dear child, birthed from depths of morgana’s mind.

they were connected in ways she and ingram could never be. so why did she choose to walk beside him?

blackwater.

the listener’s voice pierces through her thoughts. morgana’s eyes rose to the deep forest that loomed over the four.
so serene.

you’ve done well, listener. she stepped to their other side, smiling.

sorry for the delay on this; i'm very ill.  posting to get the hot potato out of my hands :p

the water chilled her to her core, while the fog silhouetted her colleagues ahead.  as usual, rasha trailed behind the rest of the druids.  she watched them interact.  how the young boy drew himself to the listener, how the other stood and watched.  with both sides of her leader taken, rasha remained watchful and distant.

the listener turned to face her followers in full, to allow them to see her in all her mortal frailty. even exhaustion failed to dull the moonbright intensity of her mismatched gaze. let them see how faith kept her fires lit even when mortal trials brought them low.

in blackwater, druids will live as one. one family, one voice. we will have laws to protect us. creed of druids, it was time for all to hear the prophet's decree. first, you will not speak our secrets to outsiders. only speakers will make new druids. do not give names or speak of our god. wash scent of druids from your fur when you travel.

second, you will not betray fellow druids. all who follow my words are family here. those who did not... the listener left this unspoken, knowing her followers would understand.

third. you will always follow will of unnamed god. we are guardians. unnamed god will require many things to protect balance in our world. we will be villains and we will be peacekeepers.

so now they would see her purpose, in full. to bring balance where there was none. to take the burden of both guardian angels and devils on shoulders. to remain hidden from the world, so that they might do their work undetected and live in peace. a harsh, lonely existence... but this was the listener's burden. one her followers gladly shared, and for that she was proud and grateful.

every day it seemed she felt more odd sentimental mortal things like pride and gratitude. ill-fitting and out of place as it felt, the listener took great satisfaction in this new range of emotion. it felt strangely like the fulfillment of a long-held and much coveted goal. mystifying, as so many things were these days, but she knew that soon the mystery would unravel itself before her eyes. soon, the unnamed god would speak to her.

no need to apologize! i hope you feel better soon <3

the words that trikova speaks do not come as a total surprise to ingram, for she had already told him as much prior; maybe a bit more vaguely but they are creeds he can follow with ease either way. the keeper gives a solemn nod to show that he understands and accepts. he is the keeper after all, these creeds already overlaid with what was in his rank description.

having nothing to add ( and not sure that he had a place to add anything even if he would've ), ingram keeps to his silence, casting a glimpse at the other two before it rests upon trikova.

the druids accepted her decree in silence. the listener gazed at them with pride, and turned to lead them further into their new home.

skipping to get this archived with permission <3