oaths and promises

The hunter comes awake with a violent startle, sitting bolt upright and meeting the timber wall with his shoulder. He rebounds to his feet and stands bristling and panting. His eyes make slow sense of the shapes in the dark. At the far end of the room a small hearth glows softly with burned down coals. His breath fogs the air in front of his face and he shudders, clammy and sweated from sleeping under furs.

One thought one impulse as blessedly simple as breathing; move and go quickly release the guilt and fear and torment and worry. Beasts think not of sorrow. It is a malaise unknown to them. Let the stars turn overhead. The same moon shines here in this frozen bleak windswept land as what float spirit blue above Ashenvale.

One thought one motion one need…no gods no demons no hate.

Just run.

How precious is that which we gain through simple compliance and quiet habit…? Tamlin reflects.

Tamlin gives his prayer of thanks and separates the long curl of silver bark into three lengthwise slender pieces with his teeth. No steel nor iron must touch this gift. Nordrassil sighs above him, its crown hidden in the night clouds above.

He prowls low to the sacred water, leaf litter and night cooled grass like soft breath on his bare skin. He feels whole and sure, washing the bark strips in the second well sends trembles of song up his arms and makes him shiver as if in pleasure, the small hairs standing up on the back of his neck.

“I am and I will be, the Prrrotector of the Trree. Neverrr will its shadow be aparrt frrom me.”