Permafrost Hollows the cult of dionysus

she did not know of these caverns. she had never seen this fruit before, but was glad to have any gift. the woman smiled and took this offering — and as she gingerly began to eat it, she looked upon her sons and upon the dreamer with great love for all.

partway through the nibbling of this fruit, wilwarin licked her lips and watched the stranger. she motioned to her throat, and frowned. and then mimed the act of speaking, and even tried to bring forth a voice — but not even a whine would emerge. only silence from fruit-stained lips.

for all this pantomime, wilwarin was not bothered. she was used to her own silence and only hoped to convey this fact to the stranger.

mouthing, i am wilwarin. thank you, for -- this, and she motions to the fruit, which she finishes. the taste is tart at first, then slowly she feels a burn at the back of her throat; but it is barely anything, only the sharp acid of the pulp, she thinks.

do you know my dreamer?