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Sreda · 12/18/2025, 2:35 AM

[Image: dg9r9iv-ef1e32a4-b5fc-454a-8201-de53cca1...V8lCO39ptc]

"You ready?"

Sreda was always ready in ways that did not need words.

The woman would nod, curt and unyielding, for she did not fear whatever waited for them beyond this threshold. She did not know of consequence or reaction, only action. And she had made up her mind that she would be the one at Wardruna's side as they professed their faiths together. And Sreda, perhaps, could have convinced herself that it was a selfish action. That it was an experiment — a test.

But there was a part of her that knew she did this for Wardruna, too.

The air was potent with magic, lingering atop them like a weighted blanket, stealing their breath as if asking for something from them. Something more than just their presence. It was strange, the way the air felt. Sreda often dealt with deals in the darkness, praying for death and begging for understanding of the darker sides of nature. It was not often (or ever) she prayed for the opposite: life.

She waited, patient. Her eyes flickered toward Wardruna as the Viking-Bloodbreather began the seance. The words of the Nordic woman rang true in the hollow of the tree, echoing around them and twining with the weight of the magic. Sreda could almost see it, the way the notes of Wardruna's voice mixed with the breath of the skeletons around them. Blood poured from the new wound on Wardruna's forearm, the iron scent adding another twisted dimension to the sensory overload.

Sreda would inhale sharply. The spirits of Mythris. The Five. We do not make this offering in vain. Sreda would take a step forward, lifting her own forearm and using her fangs to slice her own flesh. Blood would twist with the golden twines of her fur, dripping from her elbow, before landing atop Wardruna's own sacrifice.

Blood-bound.

Her eyes would twinkle.

And the witch would echo her partner:
We give blood for blood. Offer life, for life.

Welcome Back!

Greetings Stranger!

Lake's Halo

little nightmares