Little Goat Mountain [m] eyetooth

"and so we are both divided from those we love," eivor sighed as slowly the lines of her body relaxed against the warm stone of akavir's form. this intimacy was something she savored after release, though others had found sadness in the fact that eivor did not stay.

she hoped akavir did not come to walk among those spirits she had broken, or perhaps who broken themselves on the blade of her resolve.

let them enjoy this moment of strength and softness, a morning spent in each other's arms as they lay inside this stone temple. the gods were pleased. "so you come from witches, akavir. we have them also. witches. seers. astrologers. but you see what happens when witches are not at peace."

eivor blinked. "i believe there is a great misunderstanding between witches and others in the world. to be so twined into all matters of green and soul, sure it is very tiresome. we are taught they never sleep. i wonder if it is because they are not able."

thoughtfully silent she became. "you say your father turned away. i believe in my gods. but i do not believe in the power of witching. and not its evil. perhaps he meant to spare you." she tapped his encircling forearm with a gentle paw. "you speak his words and keep the creek for your mother. donnelaith must have been so powerful a place to create you, for what is a witch if not a guardian?"

owlcry sounding. a loon echo on a far lake. her heart leapt in ram-sure steps, for Odin walked tonight.