[open]

[lightningcurse]

The first frost was two nights ago, and Mabon has changed beautifully for the season: his hair is the pure-white of an ermine or a hare, to blend in with what snows will come. His already dark eyes have turned black, and his skin is mottled darks and browns, like leaf mould on the ground

Comments

[ofthewildwolves]

Firekeeper comes padding out of the woods, blood on her muzzle, with another offering for her One, that of a hare. She drops it at his feet, whines, and wags her tail, ignoring the raccoons for the time being.

[lightningcurse]

Mabon smiles and licks off a little of the blood, washing her nose. Dirty.

[ofthewildwolves]

She looks embarrassed and thumps her tail on a step. Sorry. Didn't have time to wash off.

[lightningcurse]

A bark of a laugh. Thank you.

[topofadmiration]

Miranda looks back at him with polite, cautious interest.

[lightningcurse]

He smiles at her. One of the raccoons snuffs.

[topofadmiration]

She kneels, then, and offers a hand to it.

[lightningcurse]

It ordinarily ought never to go near her but, calmed by Mabon's calmness, it sticks its head over his knee and takes her hands in its tiny ones.