01-14-2016, 09:32 PM
I am iron and I forge myself
She feels whole again, even if it is for a superficial reason. Her dam would have scoffed at the idea of tattoos, but Lagertha finds that she likes them. Her own, she finds, are particularly fierce and fitting for who she is. Others have very different markings, but they all bear the flower and the vine on their chest. Some are colored, others are not. The Jungle’s magic seems to work according to each Sister’s personality and desires.
It’s been awhile since she’s called a meeting, and this one is not urgent, nor does it require everyone’s attendance. If they wanted to come and welcome their newest Sisters, they were more than welcome. She does not doubt that they have noticed their own markings returning, and perhaps congregate to rejoice in it.
For those who knew her before, they might notice that hers have grown a little, expanding along her spine, to form some sort of animal-like design on her left flank, high above the onyx crown of thorns. The Iron Lady stands patiently beneath the same tree where she called the last meeting, accompanied by the Jungle Spirit. In its jaguar form, it sits like a coiled spring nearby, golden eyes peering out at the mares, its tail twitching in anticipation. This is the first time it has been called upon to initiate a new group of sisters, to breathe its magic upon their breasts.
She lets out a low call for the newcomers - for any who wish to take the oath - old and young. They will be welcomed with open arms, and given their own tattoos.
It’s been awhile since she’s called a meeting, and this one is not urgent, nor does it require everyone’s attendance. If they wanted to come and welcome their newest Sisters, they were more than welcome. She does not doubt that they have noticed their own markings returning, and perhaps congregate to rejoice in it.
For those who knew her before, they might notice that hers have grown a little, expanding along her spine, to form some sort of animal-like design on her left flank, high above the onyx crown of thorns. The Iron Lady stands patiently beneath the same tree where she called the last meeting, accompanied by the Jungle Spirit. In its jaguar form, it sits like a coiled spring nearby, golden eyes peering out at the mares, its tail twitching in anticipation. This is the first time it has been called upon to initiate a new group of sisters, to breathe its magic upon their breasts.
She lets out a low call for the newcomers - for any who wish to take the oath - old and young. They will be welcomed with open arms, and given their own tattoos.
Lagertha
warrior queen of the amazons