Sun Mote Copse kyrie, fons bonitatis

@Asherah @Ar-Khalba @arunik'ra ? <3 any and all welcome!

there was another moon to go, eshamun decided, before she was delivered of her children. molech's seed, she corrected herself silently. her sides had grown heavy with her fertile burden, and she felt them move often. and though her heart was pained at the thought of givin them to the god, it was for the greater good of the malkaria that this must be done. 

she paced the corridors of their home in silence, contemplating the upcoming birth and also how to best initiate asherah into their ways. the birdsong was faint, deep as she was in the copse, but shafts of warm sunlight cut through the canopy, and dappled the moving wolf in golden patterns.

slides on in here, since i wanted to grab a thread with Eshamun anyway. hope that's cool with you!

It was a pleasant place, this wood. Ragna contemplated its borders as she skirted them, her curiosity keeping her close while her instinct kept her from drawing too close. The sun cast shifting silhouettes upon the leaf litter floor, muted shapes that danced with every flutter of every leaf. Ragna couldn't imagine the kind of wolf that called this place home, accustomed as she was to hard-bitten wolves of the coast, but she thought that she wanted to know.

The idea that someone here might also know the whereabouts of her brothers settled the matter. In a brief howl she called for any denizen of this nascent pack who might speak with her.

totally fine!!

it was not long before eshamun turned her attentions from her belly to the scent of a strange wolf dancing into her senses, followed swiftly by a summoning howl. the woman paused, tense, and then drew near, her stance slipping into one of a quiet dominance. the wolfess at the marked borders of the copse was a delicate pearl of a girl, slim but with intelligent azure eyes and dun markings. 

eshamun studied the other for a long moment before her lips curved into a welcoming smile, her emerald gaze glowing with an interested light. "welcome to the malkaria. what brings you?"

The woman who answered her call carried herself with quiet dignity and the kind of elegance that Ragna would never manage. She was small, smaller even than Ragna, but her stomach was rounded in a way that suggested pregnancy. This red woman was bold, then, to come alone to greet a stranger. Already Ragna was fascinated, and sought to impress with her response.

She slipped into suitable submission, her tail hanging limp behind her, her head bowed. "Malkaria," she repeated. "I was curious, I guess." Why had she come? She had passed packs before, even upon reaching the Wilds again. Perhaps she was tired, and the thought of belonging somewhere again was too tantalizing to pass up.

the woman was deferent, gentle. eshamun liked her immediately, not only for her submission but the curiosity that lurked beneath her quiet tones. the ekar-aji did not fear for her life, not when the priestess lived still, and khalba, and asherah -- the life of the malkaria was collective. "and i am here to answer your questions," eshamun murmured in the desert-accent of her language's cadence, approaching until she stood only a few feet from the stranger. "but first, one of mine, if you please: do you seek a home?"

The woman was all warmth and comfort, her accented voice reminded her of distant dunes under an unrelenting sun. Home. The word was a note plucked in her chest. Home was all she sought, it was her heart's desire. "I... I do," Ragna admitted. Perhaps she could settle here, at least for a time. The red woman came closer, and Ragna saw now that her fur was brushed through with darker colors that made her red all the richer. And her eyes, a piercing green like spring grass, had a depth and beauty to them that Ragna had not noticed from a distance.

eshamun smiled. "i believe you were guided here by a higher power than your own, dear one. come," the pregnant wolfess murmured, stepping aside to invite the pearl to walk with her. "tell me of yourself." she would give this one a home, of course -- not only were the malkaria in need of bodies, but there was an aura that surrounded the woman which eshamun liked very much.

She hesitated at the mention of guidance and a higher power. An agnostic, Ragna had already settled that there were mysteries that she would never understand, at least not while she lived. Still, she followed, curious about this woman and desperate to belong somewhere. I am Ragna, Shieldmaiden and Son of Ragnar, she said as she walked in stride with the red woman, eager to impress. My mother and father once ruled as king and queen of Stavanger Bay. I-it's to the north from here. Then, politely, she asked the same of the red woman. And what of you?

ragna. eshamun committed it to memory and looked upon the face of the fierce pearl, impressed by her titles. if she so chose, she would make a powerful warrior of the malkaria indeed. their steps melded and moved aside, only to return to one another, and at length eshamun turned to look upon her companion, somewhat dazzled by the other's strong beauty. "i am eshamun, ekar-aji. i lead the group here in the copse. we worship molech, and it is by the god's hand that we have been granted this land."

"we are also a land of women. our men protect the young; we go forth to protect our borders and defend against invasion. men have ... a lower place here, but they are well-tended by the women of the malkaria."

The red woman seemed impressed, which bolstered Ragna's confidence. Though still deferent to the other's position, Ragna's step gained some swagger. Eshamun, the red woman said, a name both foreign and lovely, its consonants a sweet susurrus on the tongue. I do not know of Molech, Ragna said, her ears quirked forward in interest. Never had she lost her love for a good story. In her travels she had met many gods, benevolent and malevolent and anywhere in between. Which would Molech be?

A land of women said Eshamun. Ragna only wondered where that left her, sometimes man, sometimes woman. She did not say as much then, for she did not want to lose what she had gained here. I can be the champion of the Malkaria. I would fight for your land and her people, Ragna said, her voice filled with great conviction.

eshamun's lips curved at ragna's interest. pretended or genuine, the pale wolfess was polite indeed. and the ekar-aji was all too pleased to delve into the tale of molech. she was pleased to hear the other pledge her strength to their pack -- to this she gave a nod. "i welcome you then, ragna. but first i will tell you of our god. join us then, once i have given you this knowledge."

"molech," she began, "is a just god. molech has no gender; he might be male, or she might be female. our god is the eight-armed one, the bestower of benevolence. we serve with sacrifice, and in return, we are given land. sacrifice plays a great role among the malkaria; we all must give to molech. they are a god of fire, thriving upon the heat and the burning of our visions, and power is prized among us."

"to become a warrior here is to be second only to myself and the priestess. the men will serve you. but our role as females of the malkaria is to bring forth young for our pack." the woman gestured to her rounded sides. "ar-khalba, the man who accompanied the priestess and i from canaan, is a perfect example of masculinity among us."

she paused to regard ragna. "there is much more, but i wish to hear your thoughts."

weird post lmao

Ragna nodded, determined. She would hear of Molech, and though there was little that could sway her, she would decide only once she knew more. There were terrible gods in the world, ones who drove their worshippers to foul deeds in their name. Even Odinn, the god of her father, was celebrated with lupine sacrifice.

Eshamun told her of the many-armed god, and Ragna's imagination struggled with the imagery. She could not imagine an eight-limbed wolf, and so let her image of the god be vague. Ragna was a wolf of the sea, whose water quenched all fires. It was difficult to imagine serving a fire god. Difficult, but not impossible.

Her thoughts lined up, disorganized. Each was pressing, though, and so she spoke them in turn. What kind of sacrifice? she asked, wary. She was more than familiar with personal sacrifice, with offering up ones comfort for the sake of a cause. Next, slowly and carefully, Ragna said, I believe I am like Molech. This body of mine is that of a woman, but within my heart of hearts I am both, or neither. I do not know. She didn't often admit this, since few understood. But Eshamun, perhaps, would be more accepting than others. Ragna dared to hope.

Always I have been a Shieldmaiden. It is in my blood and heart to protect, she said. But I am too young to bear children. And did she even want to? Would she ever want to?

i liked it!

eshamun listened to ragna, intrigued. she had heard of this fluidity before -- there had been a priestess before her mother who had been so, a mixture of both male and female. their service to the gods had been full and unquestioned, and now it seemed to be embodied in ragna. eshamun knew nothing of the world around them, or if wolves would be accepting of the shieldmaiden, but she herself felt nothing but warmth for the somber wolfess. "kurgarru," the canaanite murmured gently. "it is our word for what you are: neither, but devoted, and hopefully among us you will be devoted to molech and to inanna."

"no matter," she said of ragna's age, pressing on. "if you are kurgarru, i will not ask that of you. it would interfere too harshly with the masculinity within your soul, ragna," eshamun murmured. "serve us well. serve molech. honor the god in all that you do. that is what i ask."

Kurgarru. The word settled in her, not like a weight but like a warmth. Like fire. Like a hearth, full of welcome and belonging. Perhaps that was what Molech could be to her. Never before had she met a wolf who could name what she felt, what she was. To have a word for her duality brought relief like she had never felt before, for it meant that she was not the only one. She was not alone! Her heart sang, and it was then that her devotion to the Malkaria and their god was won.

She would not be made to bear children, and this, too, settled fears. The respect with which Eshamun approached Ragna's state of being won her over, too. I will, she said, solid with conviction.