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@somnus-lucis-caelum | X
Anja wove her fingers together, like the Norns who wove the threads of fates, and rested her chin there with her usual unsettling stare. Men were intimidated by her. It could have been her unusual mannerisms, the dominance of her unblinking stare, the way she lived outside of societal norms and expectations.
Or it could have been that chill of death that trailed her like a shadow. She was a dangerous woman. Though not an unfair one, she thought.
The King's armour landed in a ceremonious clatter. That brave expression fell hard and fast, giving way to the truth rippling beneath the surface.
He was displeased with what had been freely offered. He wanted more.
It was her turn to smile, a wry expression as she remained otherwise unmoving. The nature of man should not surprise her any longer... though perhaps it wasn't surprise this time. Only a dull disappointment.
Anja blinked slowly. Of course their mutual respect didn't die because of one small offence. She recalled how he once helped his soldiers. It wasn't an act of selflessness, but an exchange. He eradicated pests for her and in return his armed forces were shaped back into men.
"You will have to let go." she replied, suddenly moving to rise from the table.
Her chair was wrapped in ivy and moss, small fungi grew upon the surface. It was an unusual marvel just the same as the witch who sat upon it.
Boiling water was poured over a mixture of herbs and what looked like dried pieces of wood. The concoction steeped a short while and she poured it into a small cup, the liquid tinged an earthy colour, a hint of how it tasted.
Anja placed the cup before him, and purposely dragged it slowly, edging it even closer. A strong suggestion without words.
"Your control. How you hold yourself with strict posture because that is how you were raised to sit. How you measure your own expression — you choke your own anger to death and wonder why the carcass haunts you when you find it again. Every thing you do and say because other people told you what to do and what to say. You are going to shed it, and then you will see your own truth."
#somnus-lucis-caelum#verse; wildwoods#... absolutely a type of hallucinogenic#okok so Anja's magic is heavily based around völva and seiðr magic#which requires a trance like state#and she knows Somnus is far too regal to actually enter a trance through chanting and drumming much less dancing#but like this? baby's first prophetic vision in a trance
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"I see a harvest celebrated in blood. I see a trickster whose weapon cleaves you. I see a city made of marble. And a burning broiling ocean."
Sitting across from Anja always felt eerie in a sense, though Somnus had learned years ago to not listen to the whispers of his mind that told him to keep distance to the witch. Anja had her own rules and laws to the world. She was witness, judge and executioner. And these forests were her domain.
His title as King weighed little here.
And yet they had come to a truce, a kind of mutual respect. They would not meddle in each others lands. Instead join hands, if there was a foreign threat coming for either of them.
Today it was him, who had asked her for directions. The future seemed so uncertain. And all she had for him were these grim and dark words…
Somnus’ face remained stoic for a moment longer, before he heaved a deep breath.
“You leave me with little hope today, Anja…”, he looked back to her an almost bitter smile danced around the corner of his lips, “Is that what your runes have for me? All of it…? If that is true, I will have to ask you for more than a glance into the future…”
@anjaofthewild
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Anya Taylor-Joy in Cheney Chan for Variety magazine May ‘24 issue
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Blinded by the light, far beyond the skyline In the dance of death, the phantoms entwine Invisible chains of despair and the pain constricts the world's very heart Clouded by murmurs of grief, drowned in a thousand laments The azure of mind is torn and sublimed by torments In this nightmarish rain, the silence roars We are trapped in the choir of chaos, yet redemption calls from the depths of a miracle Ei'qo Nor’qo! A cosmic masquerade dreams long to evade, ab aeterno
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@enokvirkow | X
There it was. Enok had only needed a squeeze of his shoulders to find his voice, to speak freely. Her hands remained a moment longer, their weight a reminder of her presence.
But then they slowly withdrew.
Without that physical touch, it was like trying to catch fog whenever she wasn't in sight. She was everywhere and no where all at once. This time, however, she hadn't slipped away.
Her bare feet carried her far too lightly. Even for someone as keen of hearing as Enok, she barely made a sound as she walked around and took a seat in the chair beside him. Then she did something different. Her hand extended and came to rest atop his.
"Failure is not wicked. Failure is misunderstood as the worst thing a person can do. You don't learn and grow from always being successful, likewise if you fail and choose to give up. Strong people will find determination and perseverance in the face of failure. Obstacles become challenges to overcome. You're far too young to be defeated already."
Then her hold relented. Anja pulled her hand back and pushed to stand, wordlessly leaving her small hut and the agonising young man. He could sit at that table and consume himself into his own darkness. Or he could choose to follow, and listen to the forest's song again.
#verse; wildwoods#sorry I can't write sustainably for her half the time#she's such a 'bye bitch' vibe
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@enokvirkow AnJa DoN't Do ThAt—
How is she ever supposed to listen to this. Look at it. A talking raven, don't be absurd.
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Were it any other day, Anja would have commented on the silence from her feathered familiars. Though she understood to gaze upon Death was uncomfortable for those who had never been confronted by the end of a life.
There had been a window of time where she thought Death might gently take her by her hand to end the suffering of her father's cruel nature. Instead she had been the one to place her father's hand into Death's when she decided she would no longer be the one who lived in fear.
Ever since, her life had been drastically broken and reshaped into what it was today. It had been the birth of an audacious woman who led Death along a path less travelled.
"You know exactly what I'm doing." Anja answered simply. "I cut out the weeds and restore balance. Their souls deserve to return to dirt and mud, finally put to good use. And what of you? Have you finally come to apologise? I held out my hand for you for so long, and you ignored it."
This... witch had no idea who he was. At least Death had to assume that. Because... this was way too non-chalant. This was over the top.
And yet he did not admonish her. Instead he followed - having to duck through the narrow doorframe of the witch's hut. He would have no issues to keep up with her. One of his strides easily equalling two of hers. But she spoke as if that was a fact.
The little ravens that always accompanied her were huddled together at the top of the roof, eyeing the scene suspiciously. Their usual loud banter and croaking completely silenced. Death was sure they'd follow after, hopping from branch to branch high above.
Though he followed, too. Silently and right behind the witch, like a dark giant looming shadow.
"What are you doing in these forests?"
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Can you take a rain check?
A rain check...?
He looked at her with a silently questioning look. Had he heard correctly? Had the witch just demanded him to came see her another day? As if he was a mere visitor to the little hut tucked away deep within the forest.
Tilting his chin ever so slightly, his eyes seemed to bore right through her. And yet there was no harsh glowering in them, like so often. This was a first. Oh, he had had his fair share of fools, who thought themselves above a 'meeting' with him. But none of them had ever been as disarming, as she was. Their arrogance had been their end. Though she had none of that.
It was... almost amusing.
"Witch... do you want to claim you have no time for me?"
@anjaofthewild
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@versus-written | X
"That is the purpose of a rain check." Anja replied flatly, reaching past Death himself to gather up the basket of supplies his presence had blocked. "Not a moment to spare today."
It was with a dismissive sort of wave that she stepped around him and out of her hut as though that would be that.
"You can walk and talk if you don't complain." Anja called behind her. The mountain was unpleasant to navigate. Picturesque thanks to her efforts, but steep and harsh. A place that she traversed barefoot, it seemed, undeniably connected to the very land she nurtured.
"And I'm not going to walk any slower so you can keep up, so you better pick up the pace."
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Fara tip-tapped over the roof and edged along the wooden beam of the inn where he could hear the familiar voice. He lowered his body... and when Enok walked into view, he gracefully dropped down with a flap of his wings and landed softly on one of the boy's broad shoulders. He croaked loudly, a greeting after weeks apart, then lowered his head and inched closer for scritches.
Oh man. How hard could it be to get a room for a group to sleep in for a few nights? They were trustable! And had coin... a bit. Well, not that much anymore, actually. But it was getting too cold to sleep outside all nights. And wet. Enok usually enjoyed every kind of weather. But slowly the rain was beginning to wear down on him. And he knew, if he was miserable from teh weather, Ariadne for sure suffered harshly. Even though he had given her his coat already. She hate dthe cold... He would have done anything for a week in a nice room with a fireplace.
"So... either I have to make some coin or ask the next inn...", mumbling, Enok was so captivated in his thoughts, that he only registered the raven's presence, when it already landed on his shoulder.
The brief confusion made way for a laugh and grin, as Enok recognized him.
"Fara!", he exclaimed, immediately reaching up. The raven didn't even have to demand scritches, Enok gave them freely. The soft feathers at his neck fluffed through and then smoothed back into place again.
"Where have you been? What have you been up to?", he asked, as if the animal would answer him. And in a way it felt like it did. Fara spoke differently than humans. And Enok couldn't understand. Not really. But he felt what the raven felt. He was doing good. he was fine. Happy. Fed well. And undoubtedly had seen a lot of the world. Smiling, Enok raised his arm, so the raven could hop along it and sit right in front of his face, like a proper conversation-partner.
"Hope you saw the most breathtaking sunsets and heard the most interesting stories.", nodding to Fara's croaking, Enok smiled, ignoring whomever townfolks looked at him funny for talking to the raven.

"Say, you haven't heard of an inn that would let a group of people sleep there for like... 3 coins and 2 rabbits, perhaps, have you?"
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DND your muses!
Tagged by: @enokvirkow 💖 sweet lil raven
Tagging: @celesteye @clairophant @loqis @somnus-lucis-caelum
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🌿 — Like or comment for a small starter in Anja's Wildwoods.
#starter call#throwing this out there#I feel horrid for not giving Anja more of a chance#she lives rent free in my head
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The Witch Anja @anjaofthewild and her raven Enok
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