Viravain strokes a wickedly curved scythe tenderly.
With a gentle coo, you say, "H...hello Lady."
Her voice bright and resonant, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Mmm. The Nekotai."
A vicious, magpie crow caws loudly, sending a shiver up your spine.
Continuing the hunt for his dark mate, Father Sun presses forward in his journey, lowering himself in the sky yet still casting even, full light upon the land.
Viravain drifts in a slow circle around you, Her eyes unblinking, Her expression appraising. "Tell Me about your choice."
With a gentle coo, you say to Viravain, "Yes! I am still pondering if it is the fit for me. I do like the idea of one day using the nekai to spill blood for You. But then...I ponder the Shadowbeat. I could sing songs of Wyrden glory."
With a gentle coo, you say, "I've also been considering taking up the teachings of Brother Crow..."
With a gentle coo, you say, "The opportunities of Your garden are plenty."
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Viravain's lips.
Viravain reaches out to tenderly cup your cheek in Her hand.
You see Viravain, Lady of the Thorns in your mind's eye, holding a seedling bearing your name. Lovingly, She adds it to Her Garden, and you know that your death is merely a part of Her Web -- that She is the Gardener Who turns the Seasons of your life.
With a note of finality, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Welcome home."
Coiling sinuously about Her petite frame, stygian shadows cloak Viravain in an unnatural darkness and evanesce into the aether, leaving behind only the faintest scent of roses.
With a gentle coo, you whisper, "Thank You Lady."