Stavanger Bay ivits' par-tay times!

@Doe <3

it was a miracle she survived this long.

literally.

the hag was a bundle of crooked bones, her spine awry on account of the miles she had travelled in circles; looking for really anything to shake the amnesia from her head full of cobwebs. more than a few times had she awoken to squint her eyes, unable to recall exactly how she had ended up there at that moment in time. this was one of these times. pulling herself from the alcove under the sand, she snorted, half awake and half blind. the matted fur of her eyebrows had grotesquely grown to an immense mass of hair to cover more than 75% of her visual aid. unable to recognise the great mass of water that currently faced her through her own dirt and sand covered hair and her constant amnesia, the hag peered long and hard (squinty eyes and all) at the water's edge, attempting and failing to recall where the feck she was. 

"hayyy-LOOOO?" her strangled, croaky tones called to the ocean; elderly nose crinkled with both dismay and repulsion. at her age, everything was disgusting and life had totally lost meaning; wuathlia had often got up to no good in search of death but to no avail. she had lost her tail searching for Hell, and she didn't even remember it. 

minutes later, a soft, damp feeling behind to fester at her behind and she grunted, hobbling over a few steps to relieve the wet damp feeling from her hind-quarters. this was called winter. "ooff! vut the feck?!" she screeched as it became aware to her that she was located in a bank of snow, freezing her bananas off.  "off off off off!" the old woman screeched at the white mass, furious that the disgusting, graceful snowflakes had chosen her to nest and breed on. "deist-gust-inguh! no hanky panky on meh!" she observed as the tiny white scoundrels seemed to increase their numbers ontop of her. from a distance, one would observe an elderly, matted, witch-like woman screeching at her own butt. it was quite the sight.

minutes from then, she would abruptly forget her own rantings and stare blankly at the bay, and her day would begin again.

The sound of a ruckus attracted attention from the bay's resident kook. They'd had no visitors since the razing of Donnelaith, and it worried Doe that Arturo had not sent someone to see if any of his allies lived. She would pay the coywolf a visit in her own time if he did not contact them soon, but for now, she went to see what manner of creature had found itself in her bay. If it was not a wolf of Teaghlaigh, she had plans to call for her husband to help subdue whatever was making that wretched noise.

But as soon as Doe saw the aging shewolf, she decided that it wouldn't be right to offer her to the Sea - for the waves were hungry, but discerning, too. If they offered their weakest She might become even more incensed.

Doe watched as she yelled at the snow, feeling compassion stir in her heart. It was cold - she knew because the wind was searing against her exposed skin, where the red flower had burned away her protective pelt. A shiver raked down her spine as the woman seemed to subdue herself, a faraway look in her eyes that Doe might've recognized, if she'd ever encountered a mirror during one of her own episodes.

"Hail," she said as she approached, nose wrinkling in distaste as she took in the old woman's scent. She would need a bath, if she was going to stay. "Would you like to come someplace warm with me?"

hover for descriptions

wuathlia, through the mounds of ear hair and assorted wax, bugs and dirt, managed to hear the argent call of a woman the colour of the earth, and of the regal nature of a deity; wuathila observed as her crooked neck turned to face the stranger. but she was not met with the face of a stranger at all, but one wearing her face.

it was her, staring back at her.

from tattered coat and bag of bones to the lustrous artistry painted before her, it was the work of her gods and with little doubt. it was her from another time, a time when her beauty shone and her muscles thrived; where her delicacy was of grace rather than of weakness.

"mokosh," she breathed out, eyes set ablaze in the confrontation of the mirage set before her. wuathila could not differentiate between the she-demon and the rejuvenated image of herself staring back at her with eyes that seemed as ageless as the sea, and with a confused mind came improbable conclusions. taking a step forward, she lay what was left of her weight and bone into the lunge, seemingly hostile at first if not for the actions that followed. the hag bowed to the sea queen, to the blessing of renewed elegance before her, a gift; wuathlia felt humble, humility in the presence of the Great Mother and stumbled upon the woman's feet to rest her chin upon her queen. it held her tongue in suspense, and she lay her head against the sand whilst the throb of her neck exposed, fully in submission of the one true Queen.

her queen was as humble as ever, in contrast to her grounds that lay savage in the days that passed. the woman, who she would come to know as taken the name of Doe in reverence to her time on mortal ground, offered her something, though she knew to be careful to comply. there would be a price.

"vut do ei gives, viz-anya?"

The Ahklut took a swift step backward as the woman seemed to lunge, strange words on her tongue. Her ears pushed forward to catch them and then swivelled back in confusion, and she watched with a tilted head as the elder laid herself upon the sand in submission. After several mental misfires, during which the red woman tried and failed to comprehend this behavior and what ought to be done about it, she finally leaned forward and poked her nose into the other wolf's fur, searching for more information about her age and health.

"We can worry about that later," Doe decided, never one to pass up a gift, but mindful of the shewolf's fragile state. She licked at the drying goop that'd gathered under the shewolf's eyes, prying with her teeth where it was glued to her fur. "What brings you to my bay?" she asked, deciding to leave that effort for after they'd gotten somewhere warm and comfortable. Doe didn't trust her around the kids just yet, so she would set her up in one of the Pampas dens to stay warm - if she wanted to stay.

poop post but i don't wanna hold it up!

she nodded, compliant with the woman. for now. the woman spoke and she listened, trembling slightly under the wing of a goddess. 

"eis 'ave nahting," she looked away. it had all been lost, she knew. the feeling was what she had, of abandonment, but the memories did not follow. it never did.

"ei veel die," she confessed, nodding, resigned to a fate she wanted and did not fear. "but eis have de know-ledge!" came her exclamation, suddenly remembering exactly what her last wish was; she had decided not long ago. it came flooding back at her in waves and she latched on, riding the colossal sea of all knowledge she had collected over the years of her life. she would not forget it. it would be the only thing she had. such a thing had not occurred in some while, the moments of recollection had been scarce, and on the way to her deathbed, did she remember. the hag closed her eyes, relishing in the recollection of forgotten things; things she had lost to her own, frail mind. they were treasures; they needed to be cherished, put to use. 

wuathlia turned to the woman, viewing her in her natural form for the first time. "i must," she sought eye contact, for she could not convey her need to pass on all that she knew in words. the woman would understand. she would.

"Knowledge?" Doe asked, leaning closer and cupping her ears toward the aging shewolf. "What knowledge?" Knowledge was good. She'd taken pity on the woman already, had been willing to offer assylumn for the last days of her life, but for knowledge, Doe might pay any number of prices. She thought of Mannoah's death and the terrible way in which Skellige's children had been ripped into existence. What she would have given for knowledge on that day...

"Speak, mother - knowledge of what? What must you do?" Doe urged, growing impatient enough to begin her grooming anew. Her tongue and teeth sought the muck around the elder's ears, gentle but thorough in their quest to clear the filth away.