Topic: Rituals

Tango mi amor

While we are in the arms of another and the music sings of time, and chance passing, we are in the eye of the storm

One warm line

The life well-lived, the path well-walked, each full of loops and weavings, until a person maps their patch of earth

Mortal remains

The dead are no longer welcome at their own funerals. So how can the living send them on their way?

Rules of survival

Mid-air is a bad place, where nightmares happen. Only witches and meteorites belong there. Avoid it or be destroyed