Brevard County, 2/19/08 - Prayers
They watched through the gate, the anirniit from the Hedge. Drank in the whimsies of the Fairest, paying no heed to the Blackthorne Beast until she had carved sigils of warding facing the gate, wolves, pale shredded curves through the dark bark of her canvas. She was no beauty, and glad for such mercies - fairest were not for the fights given to her. No way of telling whether the icy voices were anirniit or tuurngait. They needed an angakkuq, and the nearest was the Priestess, to divine the path to be taken, divide tuurngait from anirniit. Nujalik carved her protection, growling low warnings to the wisps from beyond. Anirniit were not kind or cruel to be kind or cruel. They simply were what they were, and no two legger would ever entirely understand them.
Emma spoke of freedom, espousing that every being ought to be free. The anirniit said they had no such dreams.
Adding eagles above the wolves, she hoped they might dream of freedom, the freedom the wind grants. Every curl of pine from beneath her fingers added to the prayer, and when she was done, the shavings were added to the fire, telling their dreams to the wind in twists and puffs of smoke.
Every day of freedom is an act of faith.
Emma spoke of freedom, espousing that every being ought to be free. The anirniit said they had no such dreams.
Adding eagles above the wolves, she hoped they might dream of freedom, the freedom the wind grants. Every curl of pine from beneath her fingers added to the prayer, and when she was done, the shavings were added to the fire, telling their dreams to the wind in twists and puffs of smoke.
Every day of freedom is an act of faith.