Black Morass her body

maybe @Irene ?

her voice, low and melodic, carried through the still air, weaving soft prayers into the fabric of the morass.
oh, mighty gods of light and shadow, grant us strength. guide our steps, steady our hearts. protect the life within and the life beyond.
the words fell from her lips like a lullaby, her eyes closed as she swayed gently with the rhythm of her song. around her, the morass seemed to listen, the breeze whispering through reeds and the distant croak of a frog echo.

irene listened in silence, the melody of Ione's voice wrapping around her like a veil. the reverent tone stirred something unfamiliar in her chest—part awe, part unease. she had never thought to pray to gods, never believed the heavens above or shadows below concerned themselves with wolves in the mire. yet, in this moment, the air seemed charged, the morass alive with something she could not name.

her emerald gaze flickered toward ione, watching the sway of the reverend mother's frame, the gentle motion of her lips. irene’s claws dug faintly into the mud beneath her as she considered speaking, but the sacred weight of the moment held her tongue. instead, she lowered her head slightly, her eyes closing for a breath of stillness.

ione’s voice softened as she finished her melody, the notes lingering in the still air like a gentle mist. her pale eyes turned to irene, the reverend mother’s expression warm, almost maternal, as she acknowledged the younger wolf’s presence.
irene, she greeted with a dip of her head, the sound of the name rolling off her tongue like a quiet benediction. you walk so quietly, child. even the morass did not announce you.
her gaze swept the bronze woman, taking in the subtle tension in her frame, the faint marks of unease etched into her expression. how does the morass treat you? she asked, stepping closer, her voice low and full of quiet inquiry. do you find its waters kind, or do they test your patience?

irene dipped her head slightly, her emerald eyes flickering toward Ione before darting away, careful not to hold the reverend mother’s gaze for too long. her posture was respectful but guarded, her words measured as she responded. to be called a child, she did not take lightly, surely they were closer in age? or was she that immature to not be taken seriously.

the morass... it has its way of testing anyone who steps into it, she said carefully, her tone quiet and neutral. i can’t say it’s been unkind, but it makes sure I don’t forget where i stand.

she paused, her ears flicking back briefly as she considered her next words. i'm learning its ways, she added, her voice steady but subdued. slowly.

her gaze returned briefly to Ione, watchful and cautious, before settling downward. she couldn’t quite discern the intent behind the reverend mother’s question and wasn’t sure yet what ione sought to see in her—or what her own answers might reveal.

the morass demands humility, she murmured, almost to herself, her voice low and deliberate. but it also rewards those willing to listen.
she stepped forward, her movements fluid and unhurried, brushing past the girl with a deliberate closeness that spoke of neither threat nor dismissal. rather, it was an invitation—a thread left dangling for irene to grasp if she wished.
would you like to accompany me to one of our altars? ione asked, her tone carrying an air of quiet authority, tempered by a trace of warmth. her pale eyes shifted to meet irene’s briefly, searching for an answer before the girl even had a chance to give it.

irene tensed as ione brushed past her, the deliberate closeness unsettling yet oddly grounding. her emerald eyes flicked to her pale ones, wary but intrigued, caught between resisting and reaching for the invisible thread ione had left in her wake.  

the morass doesn’t seem to reward much, irene murmured cautiously, her voice quiet but tinged with dry skepticism. still, there was no venom in her tone—only a guarded curiosity that betrayed her interest despite her reluctance.  

she hesitated, glancing at the fogged expanse around them, then back to ione. lead the way. she said, her words measured, testing the waters of whatever this invitation truly meant.

she cast a glance back at irene occasionally, ensuring the girl kept pace but offering no words to break the silence.

they emerged into a clearing, a space cloaked in an almost reverent stillness. at its center, the altar of solentia loomed—a towering formation of jagged, dark rock, its surfaces smooth in places where water had once kissed it, its peak stretching toward the heavens as though yearning for something unseen.

ione stopped at the edge of the clearing, her gaze fixed on the altar. this is solentia's offering, she murmured, her voice low, nearly reverent. she is the keeper of the sun’s light, the one who grants us warmth and vision in the darkest days. to honor her is to honor clarity and strength.

she stepped closer, her head bowing slightly as she approached the base of the formation. moss and wildflowers grew in patches along its base, their vivid colors a stark contrast to the dark stone. without turning, she spoke again, her words directed softly toward irene.

what do you see here, child? ione asked, her tone gentle yet probing. what do you feel?