Sirona

Originally born November 1st 2021, resurrected November 1st 2022

Art by the wonderful November Vulpes

The world-weary Sunblessed strode through the forest. The silence made every sound feel deafening, the crack of twigs under his feet highlighting the complete absence of sound. Even the wind had fallen still, the trees like immobile sentries, guarding… something.

Tabhair dom Fuaim do mo spiorad Sirona

Seaglass was filled with nothing but grim determination these days. When his packmates had reported strange lights in the forests he'd only sighed and promised he'd look into it. He'd endured so much, the myriad of scars on his body proof of his struggles. Strange creatures, disasters that ravaged the land, harsh winters, all had taken their toll on the wolf. He didn't notice the light that swirled around his body until it was right before his nose, dancing playfully in the shadows between the trees before speeding off deeper into the forest, Seaglass finding himself drawn by it.

Tabhair dom leigheas do mo spiorad, do mo chroí

More lights joined the dance as Seaglass raced through the forest, the world suddenly seeming to burst into life. Owls hooting and screeching, bats calling, crickets chirping, and a sound that was only getting louder. Water. A stream. A spring. Seaglass burst into the clearing, so many lights swirling around that it was almost as bright as a summer day. The wisps shot off into the center of a spring that hadn't been there before, illuminating a sight that made the wolf stop in his tracks.

Tabhair dom Fuaim do mo spiorad mo chara

Another wolf. Adorned with golden serpents around her face. A cloak the same red as her fur along her back. Her icy gaze locked onto the stunned Seaglass. A shiver went through him as he spoke, for her voice was one not of this world. "I am Sirona." Three words, but they sent the mortal wolf into almost a trance. Images of rising embers, of scarlet skies and blue moonlight, of falling leaves. Here was a being of great power, given wolfish form. "I am here to help." She gave a smile, and Seaglass nodded, smote by her beauty and rendered mute by her presence. "Shall we go home, then?"

Deisiúcháin ceoil i mo anam i mo chroi

Give me sound for my spirit, Sirona
Give me healing for my spirit, my heart
Give me sound for my spirit my friend
Music repairs my soul, my heart