Ankyra Sound Witchsong

@The Listener thought I'd come to you! Hope that's okay <3 feel free to tag Morgana and Ingram if you want as well! 

Eldritch traveled, after the funeral and the feast.
She meant to return to Duskfire in time, but her gut said it might not happen. 

There might be more... some small inner voice murmured.
And so Eldritch found herself quite some distance from the Glacier, standing upon sand and overlooking the ocean, which looked grayscale to match the winter, at least in El's eyes.

Her white gaze stared out at the islands protruding from the sea, hostile looking and cold.
Was anyone there...? She wondered this, but also noted maybe there were wolves still on the shore. She thought she'd passed some faint markers a time ago, but over the strong scents of the ocean before her, she couldn't be sure. 

So to bide her time, she calmly sat in the sand and began to sing. Ethereal tunes, with no words. Hums and serene notes that came intuitively. 

She felt her chest swell. 
It felt to the Seer like the spirits she'd pushed to the back burner were coming forward again via this pleased feeling...

Eldritch continued to sing, allowing her upper half to sway slowly with her inner beat.

Maybe she'd dance, too, but this felt oddly witchy, oddly personal...

Oddly.

Who would hear her? Who might approach?

from the distant shores of the mainland, a song flitted over the druids' grove, carried over the island on an icy breeze. not far from the sandy bridge between the blackwater islands and ankyra sound, a wolf with fur like raven-dark quills stirred beneath the cover of the treeline. the figure rose lazily with a slow, feline stretch.

keeper, the listener spoke to @Ingram as she passed him, gesturing to where their captive lay in recovery, watch over our guest.

a dark blur on the horizon became a silhouette as she crossed the bridge of souls, stark and growing against the pale misty backdrop like an inkstain spreading over white paper. the listener pursued the figure, the source of the song, until the dark visage of a nightspun wolf bloomed from the fog. a woman, swaying as if possessed by her own song.

the listener became still and watchful; intrigued.

thanks so much for starting <3

no problem!

 


Eldritch didn't hear their audience member approach, nor did she really see the prophet either. 
But as the Deer's song began to mellow, she got the insistent feeling of being watched, and so, she calmly turned her head to look upon The Listener.

White eyes met gold-indigo with interest. 
A witch to a witch.

There was silence for a time before Eldritch spoke.

"You carry maturity well, little void." Eldritch offered with her usual calm, velvet tones. 
"You live close?" She guessed, the scent of sea salt and faintly of others wafting from the equally dark fur of her watcher.

there was something lovely and whimsical in her face; something wild and fey. the spirits gathered close, grasping, whispering frantically. the listener admired the woman in silence for a moment, the way she drew spirits to them like flies drawn to an overripe carcass.

she spared only a glance toward the sea to answer the woman's curiosity. you have spirits around you, the prophet observed, far more concerned with her own curiosity. they whisper of your fate. your power. but what manner of power? and was this woman friend or foe to the unnamed god?

Eldritch was patient, watching the Unchild as they admired her. 
A glance went once to the unfriendly islands in the sea, to which Eldritch understood and nodded once. 

Ah. Spirits. 

Eldritch hmmed softly in acknowledgement before speaking. 
"I have worked with and talked to spirits all my life. Such things, and witchcraft, was the way of my old home. Ways I still practice even now." The Seer responded. The minor details didn't need spoken of, not here, or now. The cruelty, the abuse...she pushed the thoughts away. 

"My name is Eldritch." The witchling purled. 
She didn't ask for a name in return. 
She felt the prophet would give one if they felt it necessary. An assumption, or a gut feeling...
The older witchling continued to gaze upon the Unchild.

kinship. a fellow spirit-talker. perhaps an asset, or an enemy. eldritch, the listener's gaze swept over her, calculating. the scent of others was upon her dark coat. if you seek a purpose, there is one for you here. a witch would be welcome among the druids. ah, but this was no invitation into the lap of luxury; the listener asked much, and offered little, and would not lie in this.

but ours is a harsh life, and our secrets are not easily won. there is chaos in the world beyond our shores, chaos we must correct. sickly prey, sickly wolves. three lives rest in our care even now.

all of this, the listener told eldritch gravely. the witch must be made to understand. the druids needed her power.

Eldritch tilted her head slightly at the invitation. 
An initiation into a different clan, different beliefs.

"I will come." The Seer decided after a long pause, listening to the unchild's words. 

"First though, I must fulfill a trade I made before my journey here. I will return soon, if you allow me this." Eldritch said, referencing her promise to Kukutux. It was a debt, a bargain. 
One she couldn't leave behind so suddenly.

with a tilt of her midnight-crowned head, the witch accepted the invitation. she would walk with the druids, serve under the prophet.

the listener nodded once to her request. when you come to the druids, you will be called acolyte. the world has been unkind to my followers and they do not trust easily. but it is my hope that in time you will be called speaker. speakers are leaders, teachers, faces of the druids.

you may call me the listener. be wary of danger in your travels, eldritch. when we meet again, we will have much work to do.

fade here? <3