celtic lore

tossing lasher here bc he is a gaelic druid also :D

the old ones. lasher had known them as the small race, the creatures who spun nightmare from pale dream and abomination from the melding of flesh against flesh. he tried not to think of that which he had seen in his birth-glen, but nightly the memories tormented him, drawing the man from blue willow's side to breathe the cold air of the world outward. there were spirits here, yes, and in a circle of stones to the south, but in this quiet wood, he felt the brush of their breath clearly. taltos did not reach to commune -- he had met far too many disembodied souls in his life -- but somehow their presence was comforting to he had who had been reared upon the mysticism and mystery of a small scottish glen.

never one to abandon his bid, nor those he loved, lasher made his quiet trail through the weald in the direction of the sound. donnelaith could hold no more, not with children soon to be born. and yet he could not help the inexorable bond between them, for it drew him with invisible thread toward the pack of saltwinter.

but there was a woman, and practiced eye revealed that she moved with careful abandon toward the spirits he too felt. harlyn had called herself druid, but that she had not been such. this child, however -- aside from her great beauty, lasher felt himself commanded, charmed. the nearby man with blood-gaze went unseen; taltos focused his eyes upon the woman and was still, seeking her stare with his own in silent knowingness.