Sun Mote Copse bitter melodies turning your orbit around

Her time with Ar-Khalba was much enjoyed. She would part from him to eat and drink, and to bow her head to the shrine for Molech. She was not so caught up in her lust that she had forgotten the one who had allowed her to feel it. Her blessing came from Molech, and though Ar-Khalba was the instrument to her pleasure (and she to his) it was by Molech's graces that they were able to do so. She often spent time at the shrine, basking in the glow of Molech and praying. Today, however, an offering she'd been planning was finally complete. A rabbit's skull from a past meal had needed to bleach and be cleaned by scavengers before it was suitable to adorn the shrine of Molech, yet now it was ready. 

She hoped he would approve of her offering. Though it was not as good as the antler she had found, in her opinion, she thought it would be worthwhile until she could find bigger and better. She had hoped one day to provide a deer skull, or even a fawn skull. For that she would need help, though. The skull was head gently in her maw as she walked, a bounce in her step. As she grew closer she noticed another before the shrine. She recognized the priestess right away and slowed her pace. She would never want to interrupt another while they pray, nor paid respect to Molech and especially not the priestess.

So she walked closer but stopped a respectful distance away and waited for the other to notice her or lift her head from prayer. Her eyes watched the other with admiration, with love. She was Molech's priestess, speaker of his word. Asherah looked up to the red woman a great deal, wanted only to please. She remembered the questions she'd had about her parents before her first tyrst with Ar-Khalba. Perhaps she could talk to the priestess about her worries. If her parents had turned from Molech's touch...it made her heart shrivel just to think about it. Yet her name was unexplained.

If the red woman had time for her, perhaps it would find it's way into conversation. Should she begin to preach The Word, Asherah would gladly listen. She waited, ever patient, her eyes full of the light of Molech.