Tag: old gods

Bake bread, brew some tea, borrow kindness that you return, and bring some sweets to an old tree where ancestors of others rest. it knows when you are coming. it does not know when you will leave. but it knows, as certain as water will rise up its veins and sun will warm its crown, that you will keep going.

goldenprairies:

ghost towns that sell honey

That’s not an offer for sale. That’s a request.

Even the oldest creatures of our ‘verse sometimes need help with the harvest. It’s hard work and they’re not used to it. But if you push up your sleeves and approach the golden chickens gently, run your hand along the moon cow’s fur, they will not hurt you. If you show them the way, without mocking their abyss-deep voice, without flinching at their hundred eyes and the long claws, you will walk away with more than honey and eggs. They are peaceful, tired after millenia of war against things we never learned the names of because they were defeated before we knew they existed.

So if you are kind, they will make sure that you never go unfed, never without warmth, and always find something sweet in your pockets. They are fond, these giants, of small things like us, young souls like ours. So if someone threatens harm to yours, the wrath of a monster that has experienced kindness will find them.

Source: goldenprairies

become the old forest god with light in its seven pupilless eyes and shadows of long-gone animals playing around its flower-crowned coat that you always wished to be abducted by as a child

plants are the silent watchers protecting us, animals are the wild warriors taking down our enemies, and if we kill both, we will perish as soon as a single old god awakens