Playing With Thorns

[LaffenOutLoud 355]

Skylar Taliame’onn sat cross-legged at the ritual area within his tribes manor. A clay bowl holding loose incense composed of cedar and cloves was lit, releasing tones smelling of strength, warmth and masculinity. He raised a waterskin, filled with warm blood he had collected from one of the raiders corpses. He poured a small dollop of the blood on either side of the Irrinor sigil adorning the Irrinor flag. His index and middle fingers moved to swipe the blood into the form of horns, akin to the ones seen on the Father’s mark. With his free hand, he held the Seashell of Cernunnos to his ear, allowing the mystical marches of the wilds originating from the shell to guide his hand in painting. He lowered this shell and then  poured the rest of the blood onto his body, bringing his palms to rub such all over his neck, chest, and arms. As he did such, his voice vibrated with intensity as he prayed aloud:

 

“O’ Laurir’Orkina, kae’leh wy’anuh ceruereh. Ito kaean’leh enet’adilk, kae nae’leh lye medinera adontere. Nae kae’leh taliyna lentere il’Sirame bilokereh, ay’kinal karin’ento. Wyl kaean nae peritherae, ito kaean’leh lluman. Haelun’Lle, lluman kae’leh hiylun myumiera’onn: Partuva nae’leh y’Malii suliera, partuva llean. Kae’leh hiylun evara, iyal kae’leh nae’leh Malii’ehya yallran oerneh suliere, karinto.Kae ay’nae halere, kae’leh hiylun taynan’ehya tennae kae’leh eth myumiera.”

When this prayer came to a halt, the entire upper portion, spare for his face, was marked completely with blood. He reached over to hold a knife in one hand, and a tooth from a wolf in the other. His voice raised once more in a separate, much shorter prayer:

”Oh Morea, llytan, nae’leh ahern kae illera.”