Tryin' to stay between the lines of who I am and who I used to be
She probably should have written before coming here, but she figures it's much harder to deny her in person than through post. She knows he'll be in House of Midnight eventually, so she'll wait for him there after she finishes her time here with Frey. There'd be little point to it this time of year, snow surely already filling up the slopes of the meadows, but she'd swing by her old property too and finally face the aftermath. That's what today is all about—staring the shit she burned right in its eyes and fully accepting it.
Crouching down near the shrine, her duster coat spills out around her boots, a puddle of leather. Her head bows, hat and a high neck collar keeping her hair from shifting, and she pats down her sides to find the bulge of her offerings. She withdraws the candlesticks first, placing them in a snow like some frosty birthday cake to the god. "Figured this time of year, some wax play would serve you well, Sex Frey." She pulls out some matches and lights just one of them. "These are edible. Made from tallow." Well, more enjoyable to eat than bees wax anyway.
Stuffing the matches back in her pocket, Colt withdraws the other lump from a bag slung behind her with her bow and quiver. "Nature Frey, some seasonal harvest," she murmurs, setting down the half loaf of sourdough. Some of the center has already been cored out, and there she pours the broccoli cheddar soup from a hollowed out horn with a stopper attached. "Hope the warmth still finds you as much as the flavor." She had tried to hurry here after buying it, soup not exactly a great on the road snack, but one of her favorite things for this time of year.
Complete threads at each of Frey's existing shrines, leaving appropriate offerings for both aspects of the deity.
Crouching down near the shrine, her duster coat spills out around her boots, a puddle of leather. Her head bows, hat and a high neck collar keeping her hair from shifting, and she pats down her sides to find the bulge of her offerings. She withdraws the candlesticks first, placing them in a snow like some frosty birthday cake to the god. "Figured this time of year, some wax play would serve you well, Sex Frey." She pulls out some matches and lights just one of them. "These are edible. Made from tallow." Well, more enjoyable to eat than bees wax anyway.
Stuffing the matches back in her pocket, Colt withdraws the other lump from a bag slung behind her with her bow and quiver. "Nature Frey, some seasonal harvest," she murmurs, setting down the half loaf of sourdough. Some of the center has already been cored out, and there she pours the broccoli cheddar soup from a hollowed out horn with a stopper attached. "Hope the warmth still finds you as much as the flavor." She had tried to hurry here after buying it, soup not exactly a great on the road snack, but one of her favorite things for this time of year.
Complete threads at each of Frey's existing shrines, leaving appropriate offerings for both aspects of the deity.
Colt
I been livin', I been losin', findin' out that I can't run from me
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
