Blackwater Islands Pure intention juxtaposed

the blackwater islands had gone silent. their listener, withdrawn into seclusion; given entirely to the task set before her by the unnamed god. the new druids thrived. the prophet knew contentment in all but her dreams.

visions plagued her. promises of things to come, slivers of violent memories not yet written. horrors, she thought one morning as she woke. the druids were not ready.

the speaker would find his listener at the narrow black-pebbled beach of the spiritglade. she stood alone in the deep shadow of a single twisted tree, wreathed in tendrils of fog which seemed to glow under the moonlight. sensing his presence, the prophet acknowledged him with a cant of her ears, a glance stolen in his direction. the sweet green aroma of herbs was sharp in her fur.

tulok. you have done well in my absence. speak.

written to reflect the current date, as agreed <33