Lone Star Mountain the sweet taste of olive oil on your lips
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Ooc — Rosie
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#1
All Welcome 
It was a glorious time to be Olive. The last dregs of winter were draining from the world, she was in a romance with not one but several people, her sanctuary was thriving with wolves who were dedicated to their peaceful cause, her brother has resurfaced from absolute nonexistence and was once again sharing her life. Best of all, the seraph was with child. She had waited for longer than a year to feel this sort of way, and now that she did, she relished it. She had always taken to pregnancy like a bird took to the wing, and where Lily and others experienced sickness, she felt effervescent, glowing and godlike. Whether it was sheer luck or something psychosomatic, the midwife didn’t really know, but she was grateful anyways.

She did not feel like venturing far from the willows, but she did feel like moving, and the areas that directly surrounded her sanctuary had become just as familiar as her home within. She stayed close to her borders, materializing just beyond them, marveling at how the wilds existed when there were no wolves permanently residing within them. There were no obvious trails or entrances to dens marring the earth’s surface — vermin and fowl abounded — and the air was light and lofty with the scent of all creation. The willows were a holy place but their residence was written upon every tree trunk and every gust of the wind. Here, Olive felt more insignificant and, strangely, it comforted her.

With it being twilight out, Olive prepared herself for a spell of stargazing. She sat tall and straightened her spine, and tried to imagine what it would one day feel like to have the many feet of her children with Delight and Seabreeze kicking from within. It was a familiar sensation, and she smiled at the brief recollection of it. Everything was so fine, so she sat with her nose pointed towards the ever-twinkling stars and wondered what else the gods might have to say.
and all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams

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#2
Their path remained unclear still after waiting for quite some time for a sign. Normally he would have spotted one by now, Odin always sent them to guide wolves down the right path. Being left alone like this felt like a challenge but even with Odi by his side he was concerned he had done wrong. So he told his companion that he needed to be alone and left her to sleep hidden away inside a den while he wandered higher and higher up the mountains. There was a breakage in the trees and the first thing that caught his eyes was the moonlight colored woman sitting there, silently gazing at the stars. He held his breath for a moment and wondered if he was seeing a personification of Nótt. "Would it be alright if I join you?" he asked in a hushed voice to do as little damage as possible to the serene, peaceful air this woman held about her.
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Ooc — Rosie
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#3
It wasn’t often that Olive had a partner in her stargazing, but it was always delightful when that did happen. When it did, it was a splendid wonder to discover with whom she night pass the star-dotted night, sharing stories and telling information that spanned continents and generations. Some were familiar and some were not, and this night a man appeared whom she did not know, but seemed to respect her regard for the star gods all the same. If that was so, then he was more than welcome at her table. The shrouded dove passed a glance over her shoulder towards the man.

“Please, come join me,” she beckoned him closer with a slow blink and a scoot over to one side. “I am Olive,” she said, trying to become more immediately familiar with him.  “What do they call you?” She pointed with her ink black nose towards the spread of stars in the twilight sky, clarifying that the ‘they’ in question were, indeed, the gods. Names were god-given after all, weren’t they?
and all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams

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#4
She had an aura about her, something divine radiated from her and he was hesitant to disturb her. Then she turned and invited him forward granting him the permission he sought. He chose a spot beside her, though kept his distance so they wouldn't touch. He regarded her silently as she gave her name and asked his though the way she phrased it grabbed his attention. His eyes lit up with curiosity "I was named Vangard. It means protector of the path" he replied and then turned his gaze back toward the stars "I like to give them my attention every night, open myself up to anything they may try to say. I often find that their words come to me in dreams or fleeting thoughts rather than coherent words" he spoke in low volume as stargazing was a sacred act to him and he feared speaking too loud would ruin the welcoming atmosphere.
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Ooc — Rosie
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#5
Olive was immediately impressed with the caliber of man who simply happened upon her at night. Perhaps it was to be expected; for night was the hour of the star gazers, It was also the hours of the devils, but this man did not immediately strike her as evil or threatening. In fact, the ferocity with which he believed in the stars rivaled her own. 

She nodded her head.
“I am Olive,” She followed his lead, looking back up to the night sky. “I am also a watcher of stars.” But then, the meaning of his words truly sank it, and Olive’s voice shrank in utter respect. “You too have the sight?” the shrouded druid inquired sincerely, looking at him once-again, astonishment writ upon her gaze. She had never before met another wolf with this ability. 
and all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams

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#6
It was a simple but beautiful name "Pleased to meet you" he said and then his eyes grew alight with interest as she referred to his communication with the gods as "The Sight". "The Sight? If you mean opening myself to Odin's for whenever he wants to speak then yes" he was curious as to what she saw or heard. Was she a follower of Odin or did she have her own gods as he had learned many did. "Do you speak to gods?"
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Ooc — Rosie
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Wow! This man was more forward about his spiritualities than most she met in her travels, and that was many, especially since she dabbled in these arts herself. The druid listen to him speak the name of his gods with confidence, which she certainly liked, since her own gods were largely unnamed and indistinguishable from one another. She smiled and snickered, knowing they were speaking of the same thing, though with a different lexicon. That was the peculiar thing about religion and spirituality; at their cores, most preached the same values, though with differing interpretations. 

 
“It is whatever you want to call it,” she suggested. “but when you have it, you know.” It was always clear, even from puphood, if one knew how to identify it. Her father had seen it within her at just a few months old and spent much of his time nurturing her abilities. When there was no more that her could teach her, her turned her out to the world.  “I do. More when I was younger,” the  gravid woman responded honestly. “Ever since I had children, their voices became quieter — but their messages became more clear, and no longer only came from the stars.”
and all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams

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#8
She was wise, much like how the old Crones had been raised to be since birth. One was always chosen from an alpha's litter and was given to be raised and weaned by the Crone. He instantly felt comfortable and settled in to face her "the children are little bits of stars sent down to be reborn here and learn more, see what's changed and then when old they get reborn into the universe to help shape it to always change" he paused unsure if he was making any sense to her "It is our job to shape them to learn the good and the bad of the universe but as safely as is possible. Hence why some don't last, as it needs to be known safety isn't always a granted" he remembered the old Crones tale and it flowed through him with grim brutality. He blinked and then smiled sheepishly "I'm sorry, i was always raised in a very open way to preach my religion when around an old soul" his eyes searched hers for a moment and he smiled "You are an older soul than most"
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Ooc — Rosie
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The way these two jived was reminiscent of the way Olive felt when she was around her father. Both had a very masculine presence — or at least her father had when she was a child and he was younger. The willow witch had not seen him in years and it was certain that he was very old, if he was alive at all, but the one thing that the druid was certain that age could not touch was his reverence for the stars. He always spoke of the gods and their map in the sky with conviction, and that was what lit the fire for astronomy within her. She felt it renewed here and now, with Vangard. 

She snickered as he continued his admittedly pedantic beliefs on children, shaking her head good naturedly.
“I agree with you on almost all things, but I do not believe things are good or bad. Things just are what they are, totally neutral. It’s our silly minds that label things as good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant, friend or foe, leader or subordinate… and, unfortunately, that’s what leads to most of the evils in this world.”  that’s one thing that father had been adamant about. The core of every soul, no matter what body it lived within, was the same — and if so, how could you fight someone who is also yourself? How could you consume someone who was also yourself? How could you wish harm upon them?

Olive had come to terms that she and her father might be the only two wolves in the world who believed it, but that was okay, because that idea is what drove her every waking moment. It seemed that Vangard could feel it too, as he called her an old soul than most.
“I’m getting to actually be older than most. I should cherish my babies and their godliness while I still can.”  she commented in an attempt at humor, but behind every joke was a small bit of truth. Though she was pregnant at this moment, and she was hale and healthy in every way, she wasn’t sure how many child bearing years she would have left. She would always have midwifery to keep her close to children, but it was a different experience to actually go through it herself.
and all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams

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#10
She was fascinating in her beliefs and while he knew he'd atone for it in some way, he found himself understanding where she came from. "That is a very....peaceful way of thinking" he said musing over it in his head and slowly smiling though it was a sad sort of smile. He wished he could believe it, Understanding and believing were two different things. He tore his gaze from the stars as she spoke of her limited time as a mother and he clucked his tongue "You'll always be a mother and your children will always be your babies. No matter how old you become, no matter if you grow infertile" he said this warmly and then heard a familiar call out in the distance. Odi was summoning him to rest. He snickered "That's for me. I best be off. It was very nice to meet you Olive, I hope you the best in life" he said as he slowly pushed his large frame off the ground. "Far vél Odinn" he said fondly as he looked to the stars, bidding his god Fair well.