the deer lay open beneath her careful paws, steam lifting from the body into the cold air. she worked close to the earth, skillful movements, peeling hide from flesh the way the old gods demanded — clean, unhurried, without waste. blood darkened the snow beneath her knees; heat pulsed from her skin into the carcass as if giving something back.
when the pelt came free, she folded it tight and neat, pressing her brow briefly to the hide before setting it aside. an offering, not hers to keep. this one would go to the jarl, shaped by tradition and silence, marked by the hands of an ashborn girl who still remembered the rites.
when the pelt came free, she folded it tight and neat, pressing her brow briefly to the hide before setting it aside. an offering, not hers to keep. this one would go to the jarl, shaped by tradition and silence, marked by the hands of an ashborn girl who still remembered the rites.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Messages In This Thread
≼ hyrrokkin’s lay - by Matsi - Yesterday, 08:31 PM