Firestone Hot Springs η μάγισσα

aw with a witchy experimental girl!

the billows of steam rising past treetops was a beacon. a welcome respite after a long journey; the young priestess weaving through underbrush with fluid steps. jaws full of gifs she'd place at the hearth of a homemade altar. a skull of a buck, a bundle of nightshade, a smooth shard of selenite. the preferred pickings for Nyx, to be given by her most devote worshipper when night falls. seeking a blessing, a whispered word...but for now, Lyre would succumb to more earthly indulgence. 

her stash tucked away beneath the flat of a rock, to be kept hidden incase any thieves were to steal her prizes. pools of steam and the warmest of waters call to her; reminding her so bittersweetly of the communal baths back home. they were empty, as to her liking, as the enchantress eases into a shallow pool. a welcome hug of soothing warmth in which she allows herself to relax. eyelids shut, breaths quiet and even.

the night was hers, but there was much daylight left to be spent.