Facets

The Warrior has laid down her sword next to her shedded armor. She has not given up, she has simply retreated from the heat of battle to the cool comfort of the forest. It is time to meditate and take stock of things. To find the calm and center herself before emerging once more. She must learn to choose her battles wisely. Only then will she don her armor and take up her sword to find justice. The Goddess has gone inward, down deep into the shadows. She is familiar with this place. In another life this was her home, a haven she created when there was no reason anymore to linger near the surface, hoping to be inspired. To her great surprise, a magical man appeared and lured her out of hiding. He made her feel whole again. A potent, sensual being who blossomed under the influence of his healing touch. Now it has been so long since she has felt anything real and compelling she has chosen to return to her inner sanctuary. The Goddess has not given up, indeed, she may very well be coaxed from her santum sanctorum. When the wind is right and carries the scent of sweet awakening she will find it impossible to resist and surface once more. And so this leaves The Mother in charge. She, too, is weary, tired to the point of exhaustion. But she will persevere as Mothers do. Her hair is pulled back but tendrils escape. She pushes them into place as she brushes away her tears. She will continue to clean up the messes, to prepare the food, to be mindful that the body as well as the soul requires tending to be fully cured. When she looks back at this dark time from a place of light and peace, she will be astonished that she survived the storm. That it didn't swallow her whole and destroy her entirely.