when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer
Charlie couldn't have been more Maea's opposite. Never once had the ancient done anything but given in immediately to her bloodlust, and anytime she had denied herself, it had merely been to sweeten the experience when she finally could indulge.
Being new to the Grounds didn't change the way her bloodlust began to nip at the balls of her feet and stir a hostility within her soul, and so despite the strange new practices she saw all around her, Charlie resorted back to the ways of old. Or, to her anyway, the only ways she knew.
From Maea's vantage point, she'd see a woman in a white gown prostrated amidst the brambles. Having created a ring of dried wood around herself which she'd lit on fire, Charlie had created an altar of black stone, over which hung a large sow. The pig was alive and seemingly comfortably bound with bits of apple core sticking to her maw indicating she'd been fed recently. At Charlie's side was a golden urn and several daggers of varying sizes. Whether or not the Gore Crow would be able to hear the melodic incantations the doll-sized blonde was uttering likely wouldn't matter, for the tableau utterly spoke for itself.
Being new to the Grounds didn't change the way her bloodlust began to nip at the balls of her feet and stir a hostility within her soul, and so despite the strange new practices she saw all around her, Charlie resorted back to the ways of old. Or, to her anyway, the only ways she knew.
From Maea's vantage point, she'd see a woman in a white gown prostrated amidst the brambles. Having created a ring of dried wood around herself which she'd lit on fire, Charlie had created an altar of black stone, over which hung a large sow. The pig was alive and seemingly comfortably bound with bits of apple core sticking to her maw indicating she'd been fed recently. At Charlie's side was a golden urn and several daggers of varying sizes. Whether or not the Gore Crow would be able to hear the melodic incantations the doll-sized blonde was uttering likely wouldn't matter, for the tableau utterly spoke for itself.
.
