Wapun Meadow the lambs were screaming

It was beautiful here. The meadow was dotted with flowers that would soon wither away with winters cold, chapped-lipped kiss. Clarice moves through the field, blood still matted to her furs from the foxes. She was not at all self-aware, as she typically was; her appearance was secondary, now, to her primary goal. The night of Sos and Atka had passed. Clarice had learned plenty of magic from the house of the Rising Sun; she was ripe and wild with it.
xxxxShe sought baneberry. Baneberry and other poisonous crop that she could make her elixir with, crush and rind the plant into meat to bring to Sos another grand sacrifice. The unfaithful had no place, none, and she would wipe them from His green earth (perhaps many saw it to be Hers, Atka's, but Clarice attributed everything to Him). The sky was darkening, promising to bring a storm. But she could not be distracted in her ultimate task.
xxxxShe combed through the flowers, swatting the ones that were not of use to her. From the woods she had found she would seek an elder tree to begin her conjuring. Then maybe the voices would speak again.