Stone Circle sit with you in the trenches

@Askell, maybe? c:

it was over a week since her paws first crossed into the stone circle. a week of watching, weighing, wandering. now, she worked. 
the moonwoman had not yet given draugr answer. but she made herself useful. she would not linger in another’s camp unless she intended to fight beside them… or make her own claim.
the seiðkona den she’d chosen was not one of soft moss and tucked-away warmth—it was a hollowed place between two great boulders, reinforced now with weaved bramble and driftwood. the mouth faced east, where sunfire would dry the herbs. it smelled of stone and pine, of crushed marigold and bark.
bundles of dried yarrow and nettle tucked in her teeth, a sprig of tansy knotted there, too. anoré sets them down with care, sorting her growing stores. the roots she bound in sinew; the leaves, she pressed beneath flint-stones.
this was a shieldmaiden's work too—silent, steady, and no less vital.