[the rifts have closed and the beasts that once terrorized the commune—abraxas at large—are no more, but for a few that have been allowed to roam and remain. as if they had never been there before, things in solvunn start returning to normal. things ease, the land seems to heal, and, as always, there are shrines that need up keeping.
she can do so much with her magic, it feels selfish to do nothing.]
( A ) AN OFFERING IN BLOOD.
[wanda would be found, then, by the forest groves near and around the settlement, sitting on her knees, hands on the ground and fingers splayed out across ground and roots as she chants in whispers. the trees nearby rustle despite the lack of breeze, seeming to groan as they take in the benefit of her magic feeding into their vitality, small white and lavender flowers sprouting throughout the grass. the least she can do, in the absence of having offerings to give, is keep the homes of these shrines wealthy in health and beauty; a practice she has done often before, sometimes with someone nearby trying to learn how to do the same. she remembers carl fondly... and sends a quiet sigh into the world along with another pulse of magic, hoping that he is well, wherever he is.
after a moment, wanda has to sit back, tipping her head up. lines of blood draws down from her nose to her lips, and it's hard to breathe. there's a pattern here that she's noticed, unfortunately, and it's whenever she's used her magic—ever since the monsters disappeared.
it's frustrating, and so she puts her hands back down on the earth, grass blades between her fingers, and continues. drops of blood join her hands, and she refuses to stop despite herself, despite the contrarian pain she feels that comes from using her magic.
less than a minute goes by, before she's tipping to the side—and falling limp on the ground, white and lavender flowers around her.]
( B ) TREEHOUSE ROUTE.
I'm alright. Really.
[as if it weren't embarrassing enough, she gets offered to be brought back to the treehouse. thankfully it's close enough to the primary settlement, so it's just a matter of lasse bringing the goats and cart over for the trip. she waves off any lingering concern, though finds herself unable to reject the basket with fruits and food given to her.
it's all she can do to usher the kind locals away, and it isn't until their backs are turned and they've turned a corner that she lets a heavy exhale, dropping the basket down to her feet and plonking down on a nearby bench. her head still spins from the overuse, earlier, of her magic and whatever this symptom is that is causing her to bleed whenever she does.
wanda picks up her head at the sound of approaching feet.]
—tell me they didn't ask you to keep an eye on me.
[whoever it is, the intention is written clearly on their minds. the locals are eager to help the summoned, but they know that it is best when they deal with one another.]
I'm just waiting for Lasse and the goat carriage.
( C ) PRAYERS FOR A SHRINE.
[it seems that wanda doesn't know the words 'stay put', 'rest', or 'tell someone if you're going anywhere'. at the treehouse, she's pulled out her horse from the small stable area to get him all dressed up and suited in leather for a short trip.
sometimes, in the treehouse, she and the others have guests that they're not aware of. sometimes, if someone wants to sleep away from the settlement, or got caught out late at night around the area, they are free to stay—or come around for one of the meals. their doors are always open. this is very much the case, right now.
wanda tightens the bridle on her horse, then moves back inside towards the kitchen, to get her bag with some supplies—food and water, that is, not quite acknowledging whoever else might already be there, eating fruit loops with milk, or whatever other assortment for breakfast.]
—SOLVUNN • OTA • SEPTEMBER
she can do so much with her magic, it feels selfish to do nothing.]
( A ) AN OFFERING IN BLOOD.
( B ) TREEHOUSE ROUTE.
( C ) PRAYERS FOR A SHRINE.