Blackfoot Forest when night fell she placed hand upon breast; prayed for weeping days of rain

she's at/around the blue springs cave.

 Now that the shine has worn, her days have fallen into mundanity, routine. She does not want for company, nor would she deserve it if she did. But Wardruna is an ever present figure and she remains loyally by the side of Sif. The man who will run the Valley, Xan, she feels little towards but he is there, and there is the enigmatic Addie, who she lets keep distant. 

 Often she is struck by the similarity to her former home, but without ritual to bind them, Poet finds herself... wanting. It is, she supposes, a fair and just punishment for a blasphemer like her. To have stability but be left unfufilled. And yet, the tricky nature of personhood! She searches for something anyway, some small tiding. She does not believe in the concept of Gods any longer but. But.

 She had not been searching for the tunnel but it comes like a beacon; the spring a new altar. The press of the walls at her sides grounds her and gives her purpose. She does not believe in the Gods, but is there not someone to whom she owes a prayer? Yes. She exits the spring into the forest, searching for some small offerings, plants or stones that have survived harsh winter's blow, with which to build her small bema.