Eilwen squinted at her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the altar, where the small driftwood
Eilwen squinted at her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the altar, where the small driftwood fire was crackling with green and purple-tipped flame. She hummed a chant while her slim hands moved in ritual patterns, laid the bundle of grass inside the creamy, rose-streaked bowl of a scallop shell, and placed it near the fire to smolder. “I need to get back to—,” Angharad began, feebly, and took a step back, but Eilwen grabbed her sleeve again, with an arch grin. “Oh no, you don’t. You’ve not been here in a fortnight, anyway; you can spare half an hour to please me, even if you don’t care about slighting the goddess.” -- source link
#busted#prydain#fanfiction#fanart#illustration