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09-19-2015, 01:13 AM
AISLING
my friend makes rings, she swirls and sings
she’s a mystic in the sense that she’s still mystified by things
my friend makes rings, she swirls and sings
she’s a mystic in the sense that she’s still mystified by things
As a girl, Aisling had love to listen to tales of gods and heros. She must have known a hundred songs about ancient battles and duels fought for love. They had always sounded romantic to her, fantastic and thrilling like no other. She had sighed over the notion of courageous kings who fought for land or love, over knights who were brave enough to go and die for something bigger then themselves. Again and again she had wished, had dreamed, that her life could be like one of those stories or songs but something in her had begun to shift when Raven and Thunderhead had told her of the battle of the Bloodfalls. The tales she had loved had always begun with “Many ages ago…” or “In a far away land…” but when violence and bloodshed happened in the hear and now it was hard, even for a dreamer, to find the romance in it.
Again she had come to late. The little white mare stood in the shadows of the trees and stared out, wide-eyed, at the carnage the battle had left. The all of the bear god had been awful enough to hear of, but this was more horrible than she could have imagined. Broken black bodyparts for the felled wolf god lay everywhere and it seemed everywhere she looked, the survivors were smeared in blood and ash. Years from now, when she was much wiser, she would name this as the day she truly left childhood behind.
No fighter was she, but she had been determined to be helpful after her last meeting with members of the Whatch. Back in of the Isle of Éire, her mother had been a local healer and though Aisling was not fully trained, she had not grown up without learning the basics. If she could not fight for justice in the land she could help t care for those who would. In preparation, she had collected several familiar plants (yarrow root to stop bleeding, catnip for swelling, and the little purple flowers of Winter Savory to ward off infection) and tied them in little bunches in the ribbons at the end of her braided mane. She had come ready to heal but had found the scene just in time for the Goddess to make her obsolete.
With no need or wish to get any closer to the battlefield, the faerie picked her way through the surrounding maze of trees. She had spied the black and blue mare at the scene, and a few others from the Whatch but as they were surrounded by dozens of others it didn’t seem an appropriate place for a meeting of a secret society…
She spotted the steam first, rising in a eerie orange light that looked like the molten rock in the Heart Caves, and then the rest of the massive figure that went with it. She was sure he had to be one of the newcomers, they all seemed to have such strange features. Aisling decided, quite impulsively that finding out more about these foreigners would be cert contribution and so the little white mare approached the massive black stallion. It was not his size that caused her to approach cautiously, she was used to being small, but the shock of the battlefield had subdued her mindless optimism enough to favor rational thinking. She stopped several yards from the beast and peered up at him. "Have you just come through?” It was said as one might ask a friend it they were alright after some horrible ordeal, calmly and kindly. Even her horror at the realities of battle could not shake the kindness from her.
"."
[ooc// ]
Again she had come to late. The little white mare stood in the shadows of the trees and stared out, wide-eyed, at the carnage the battle had left. The all of the bear god had been awful enough to hear of, but this was more horrible than she could have imagined. Broken black bodyparts for the felled wolf god lay everywhere and it seemed everywhere she looked, the survivors were smeared in blood and ash. Years from now, when she was much wiser, she would name this as the day she truly left childhood behind.
No fighter was she, but she had been determined to be helpful after her last meeting with members of the Whatch. Back in of the Isle of Éire, her mother had been a local healer and though Aisling was not fully trained, she had not grown up without learning the basics. If she could not fight for justice in the land she could help t care for those who would. In preparation, she had collected several familiar plants (yarrow root to stop bleeding, catnip for swelling, and the little purple flowers of Winter Savory to ward off infection) and tied them in little bunches in the ribbons at the end of her braided mane. She had come ready to heal but had found the scene just in time for the Goddess to make her obsolete.
With no need or wish to get any closer to the battlefield, the faerie picked her way through the surrounding maze of trees. She had spied the black and blue mare at the scene, and a few others from the Whatch but as they were surrounded by dozens of others it didn’t seem an appropriate place for a meeting of a secret society…
She spotted the steam first, rising in a eerie orange light that looked like the molten rock in the Heart Caves, and then the rest of the massive figure that went with it. She was sure he had to be one of the newcomers, they all seemed to have such strange features. Aisling decided, quite impulsively that finding out more about these foreigners would be cert contribution and so the little white mare approached the massive black stallion. It was not his size that caused her to approach cautiously, she was used to being small, but the shock of the battlefield had subdued her mindless optimism enough to favor rational thinking. She stopped several yards from the beast and peered up at him. "Have you just come through?” It was said as one might ask a friend it they were alright after some horrible ordeal, calmly and kindly. Even her horror at the realities of battle could not shake the kindness from her.
"."
[ooc// ]
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::
