Stavanger Bay ivits' par-tay times!

hover for descriptions

wuathlia, through the mounds of ear hair and assorted wax, bugs and dirt, managed to hear the argent call of a woman the colour of the earth, and of the regal nature of a deity; wuathila observed as her crooked neck turned to face the stranger. but she was not met with the face of a stranger at all, but one wearing her face.

it was her, staring back at her.

from tattered coat and bag of bones to the lustrous artistry painted before her, it was the work of her gods and with little doubt. it was her from another time, a time when her beauty shone and her muscles thrived; where her delicacy was of grace rather than of weakness.

"mokosh," she breathed out, eyes set ablaze in the confrontation of the mirage set before her. wuathila could not differentiate between the she-demon and the rejuvenated image of herself staring back at her with eyes that seemed as ageless as the sea, and with a confused mind came improbable conclusions. taking a step forward, she lay what was left of her weight and bone into the lunge, seemingly hostile at first if not for the actions that followed. the hag bowed to the sea queen, to the blessing of renewed elegance before her, a gift; wuathlia felt humble, humility in the presence of the Great Mother and stumbled upon the woman's feet to rest her chin upon her queen. it held her tongue in suspense, and she lay her head against the sand whilst the throb of her neck exposed, fully in submission of the one true Queen.

her queen was as humble as ever, in contrast to her grounds that lay savage in the days that passed. the woman, who she would come to know as taken the name of Doe in reverence to her time on mortal ground, offered her something, though she knew to be careful to comply. there would be a price.

"vut do ei gives, viz-anya?"