Blackfeather Woods Sleep is a little Death.

@Maegi

She had not been in the Temple in ages it seemed, a duty that had been ignored while enraptured by the tendrils of the poppy seeds. She was lucky that she was not the only devout member here in Blackfeather Woods, and that others had been vigilant enough to keep the Temple relatively clean.

But there were things that only she, a priestess and witch, could do for the Temple. Potema scoured the herbstore for whatever herbs she could find, bringing bundle of magic-laden herbs and moss to Nightcaller Temple. Potema began methodically cleaning the Temple, rubbing the stones with slightly soaked moss, and leaving small bundles of herbs and bone and fur — fetishes — at places where she sensed weaker points in the bond between this world in the next, getting lost in the familiarity of the process.