And as the sun drew ever near the horizon, he raised his horn in toast. To the old gods, to the land and sea and sky. To the sun, to the moon and stars, I toast to thee.
Isáine, the Witch of the Wyldwood
And as the sun drew ever near the horizon, he raised his horn in toast. To the old gods, to the land and sea and sky. To the sun, to the moon and stars, I toast to thee.
Isáine, the Witch of the Wyldwood
Kaleidoscope eyes float along crystalline waters watching stars falling to an ocean below where we swim through swirling eddies of dreams merging and parting as we dance the tides and sing songs in tongues long lost to human minds but known to the dirt and the fish and the stars….
The Moon, She saw. She sees all. Like the Sun. They watch, taking turns floating across the sky, keeping a weathered eye on the world below. They see our pain they see our lies. They see our happiness and our surprise. But they never tell, they don’t speak a word. They float across the sky and weep and laugh, for they see our demise.
~ Isáine, the Witch of the Wyldwood