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When I stepped through that rip in reality that my enchantment caused at Miss Quickley's, I thought I saw out of the corner of my eye a typo in one of the runes dealing with the search of my queen, MoiraGwyn. Seems I was right. I'm a Hermetic, we're not really known for our spelling skills. Instead of searching for her directly, the spell is drawing me to some very interesting places, possibly following the path she might have been, whether it is within the last minute or 10 years, I can't say for sure.

This last stop has thrust me into a heavily wooded section of what I believe to be somewhere in North America, home of some of the ugliest birds I have ever seen.

I've since come into contact with a strange people who call themselves Pilgrims and are celebrating their first harvest in what they label as "heathen country". They've invited me and a native tribe called the Wampanoag to dinner; it's a regular heathen lovefest. The mood here at the table is slightly awkward, and after a few comments about table manners (I apparently can't rip the bird apart with my hands) they set to eating. But not before giving thanks to their strange single god and to the natives for their generosity. The food is quite delicious, and in the spirit of this day, I would like to give my thanks to the things I am grateful for: the queen, the sisters, the witches, the vampires, the snarks, the psychics, the mistresses, the hellhounds, the gypsies, the blushers, the rouges, the demons, the druids, the wraiths, and the occultists. You all make life very interesting.

The meal was a wonderful success and I predict these two people will live together in harmony until the end of their days. Yes, I'm quite certain that's just what will happen.

Happy Thanksgiving all.

*edit*
Also thankful for the French innocent surgies and the fried ones

Posted by Rowane de'Dannan on Thursday, November 23, 2006 at 2:29 PM | Permalink