(514-02-07) Rainy Imbolc
Summary: Pagans (and a couple of Christians) gather for the Festival of Imbolc.
Date: February 7, 514
Related: Preceded by Imbolc Arrivals. Continued immediately in Garlands in the Rain (Kamron and Arian) and Garlands and a Kiss (Glaw and Gwynaelle).
signe glaw coelwulf josette kamron brynmor arian gwynaelle lili 

Signe seems…a little confused as she regards Glaw. "Who…precisely am I insulting?" she asks, her voice low, a little light in tone, but a little edged. "Where is this Christian I have so gravely insulted with my suggestion that these new beliefs may be causing unrest in the spirit of an ill woman? This man, faithful to the old ways, has asked a priestess of the old ways for her opinions on an illness. I have given him the answers as best I can. I will not be admonished for that." Her lips tighten and she withdraws her hand.

Glaw is sitting on a log near one of the fires, Signe sitting besite him, currently engaged in a hushed, but apparently slightly more intense discussion. Josette had taken a nearby log as her own, while Coel remained standing near her, though in easy conversation range. Oh. And there is a raven on Signe's shoulder. Peat is not joining the talks. Yet. Ahem.

Coel lifts a brow at the exchange "Of what Christain do you speak?" he asks looking between Glaw and Signe, "I know only of Sir Kamron here, and surely he has done nothing to offend?" he frowns deeply, "I would have words with an who have offered him insult as we are friends…" he listens to Signe "I am sure no offense would be taken by your suggestion Lady Signe."

Josette remains sitting quietly upon a log beside Coelwulf as she listens to Glaw, Signe and Coelwulf discuss things she is not bold enough to state her opinions upon such a matter.

Someone called for a Christian? Kamron de Dinton is out of place, although he only shows his discomfort in a slight tightness around his shoulders and a bit of rubber-necking at all the preparations. Really, he could be a Pagan who has only just come to his first Imbolc at the Henge. Still, he intends to do his duty as an observer, and so he has taken to wandering the encampment that sprung up around the embankment protecting the base of the henges from view, trying to soak in as much of the experience as he can without getting any on him. You know, on his good Christian soul. He approaches the fire hosting his friend, the cousin of another friend, and several others, raising a hand in greeting as he approaches, "Lady Josette. Coe." A silent bow of his head serves for a greeting for the others.

Obviously, one can't sleep /all/ day, or maybe they can! Thus, Brynmor de Steeple Langford finally makes his way to the festivities, once ensuring that everything was already set up and not a lick of work needed to be done. There's still a few twigs and a leaf caught in his blonde locks from when he had be sleeping on the ground, but he doesn't notice enough to mind. He was promised fun and drink and girls and wreathes, for whatever reason, so showing up wasn't too much of a bother. And he was still in the area, not having gone far since the last time he was here when they were still setting the place up. So on his rouncey he gallops over as close as possible, for it means less need for walking. He then notes a few familiar faces surrounding some bonfire in the distance, especially those of his fellow knights, but it's the women who draw most of his attention. "I've come as I had promised." He murmurs while stifling a yawn, his eyes looking over the expanse of the place to check out how things had all come together and stuff. "I hope that I'm not interrupting anything important." He isn't sure if there will be prayer or mass or anything going on, being a Christian himself. "My Ladies, fellow knights."

Glaw shakes his head at Signe, though as her hand is removed from his, he does not seek to hold it, he merely lets his own fall to his own knee, frowning a little. "I…was not trying to admonish you for what has happened. I was trying to let you know for the future.". Of course, if you talk of the Christian, he appears, Ahem. And so any other rely Glaw might have had is cut short as the man's greeting rings out. A wry smile is given to Signe then, a faint inclination of his head to the two arriving knights given. Instead he finishes on another note. "If I made my objection harsher than I intended, I appologize, m'Lady. And perhaps we shall talk about it at a later time.". He holds her gaze for a moment, to see if she will agree, before he finally turns to regard the new arrivals, offering a nod to both Kamron and Bryce. "Merry meet to both of you.".

Winter is quickly losing its cold, dark embrace as more and more candles are lit at the heel stone. They dance and glitter, causing the stone itself to be almost blisteringly hot with radiant heat. Arian is approaching from the heel stone where she has undoubtedly lit another candle, entering the embanked lawn with a small lamb in her arms. She is barefoot, allowing the slick, steaming grass to keep her feet cool. She does not have flowers twisted up in her hair like other ladies her age, but the short waves have been brushed loose so they tumble about her shoulders. The black-faced lamb bleats softly, though looks otherwise content in her arms. She enters the bonfire area, and smiles brightly to Kamron who appears to have survived much of the day unscathed. "Sir Kamron, good to see you in one piece," and then she bobs her head to Brynmor, particularly pleased to see that he isn't sleeping somewhere. She steps toward her cousin and her knightly guard, drawing closer to the flames. Glaw and Signe catch her attention, but she does not dare interrupt. Yet, at least.

Coelwulf was about to sit when others begin to arrive "Kam!" he calls out in greeting, "Merry meet!" he calls out loudly "Rhun! stop dallying about, fetch mead, people are thirsty" the boy looks up, no doubt from where he chats with some Ladies in waiting to whom he has met "Yes Sir." the boy shouts then hurries off to the Shrewton encampment.

Alas, Signe seems a little cool. But is it her temper, her ire piqued, or is it just that she's become that…aloof? She nods very slightly to Glaw, her hnds resting in her lap, fingering the feathers of her adornment.
And then it is that she hears a familiar gait. Oh there ARE Christians here after all. "Bryn," she breathes the name before she even turns to see him. "What is he doing here…"

Josette offers a warm smile to all joining around the fire and kindly says "Merry meet to you all once again. I hope that the evening finds all of you well." Her gaze then looks to Arian as she offers a warm smile as she holds the bleating lamb.

Signe notes the lamb, and rises from her seat with another furtive glance at Brynmor, before approaching Arian and offering with a gesture to take the fated creature. The raven takes flight as soon as she rose, and it's to Brynmor the bird flies, fluttering around him and cawing insistently.

"Right. Merry Meet and all that." Brynmor says as enthusiastically as he can muster, but he's very familiar with the term, growing up with a few pagans in his time. Having tied his energetic horse to some nearby post or other, he joins the group proper, getting a better look at all those gathered. Though Arian's arrival with the lamb does make him raise a brow. He wonders if they will be eating that thing! "My Lady Arian," He says with a flourishing enough bow, one that he will extend to Josette, "And Lady Josette. A pleasure to see your shining beauty once more." Straightening up now, it's difficult to miss the appearance of his cousin, for the pale thing stands out immensely. "Ah, dear cousin Signe. I hope that my presence warms your heart, knowing that your cousin would share in this experience with you."

With the women all addressed, he turn to the men, "Sir Kamron, I see that you've decided to stick around." The others he knows of off hand, having jousted and probably fought alongside them, against his better judgment and perhaps his will, but still. "Sir Glaw and Sir Coelwul—" Look a bird. If Brynmor didn't know any better he would be swatting the cawing them away from him and initially, that is what he attempts to do. "Can you call this thing off now?" He says in a low grumble.

Glaw does not seem to be put off too much by the aloof nature of Signe, taking it in stride, at least until the surprise washes over her, and he blnks, trying to follow her gaze. As she rises to approach Arian, however, Glaw remains seated, shaking his head somewhat bemused, though he does not comment on it, merely giving his return nods to Brynmor. The interaction between bird and man, before he finally turns eyes back at Arian, and the lamb as it is about to change hands. It is his turn, however, to remain silent, apparently.

Kamron bows his head in greeting to Glaw as well, "I've been meaning to ask just what that means." Pressing a hand to his chest, he offers, "Sir Kamron de Dinton. Greetings and salutations." The arrival of Brynmor causes him to raise his hand in greeting again, and then Arian arrives with the lamb, and Kamron's brows rise sharply, "Is that dinner, observance, sacrifice, or all of the above, Sir Arian?" It's not entirely… disapproval… in his voice, but perhaps wariness is a better description of his tone. The flight of the raven causes him to blink, reaching up to run a hand back over his hair, "Uh… should I have some other clothing for this, Sir Arian, or will I be alright standing around the edges?"

Finding out what this particular lamb is for, Signe is called instead back to a familiar scene— that bird bothering Bryn. "Mawnen!" she calls in a commanding voice that might surprise anyone who's not well known to her. "Leave him be. He doesn't need any omens to know what's waiting for him when he gets home."

When the Priestess approaches, Arian bobs her head respectfully. "She's for the blessing," Arian says softly. "We actually brought twins with us… Priest Olwewel has already taken her brother to the altar." She presses her nose into the lamb's soft wool before she turns slightly toward Josette. The lamb bleats again, shuffling her long, lanky legs. The dark, soulful eyes of the young ewe looks after Signe as she retreats and bleats again. Arian rubs her fingers around the velvet fur that covers the lamb's awkward feet. She looks up at Kamron's words, and she laughs. "No, she's just to be blessed and taken back to our lands." She gains a teacher's voice, and obviously here to show the Christian what's what. "We've had a good number of firstborn lambs across Salisbury, it seems… good sign Spring is coming soon."

With twilight upon them, there is a slow movement of some toward the heel stone to gain the best view of the ritual to start the night's festivities. Most wait to hear the bell, but some are anxious. Rituals are powerful and traditions should be adhered, but most are eager for the feasting, drinking, and cavorting to begin.

Glaw finally rises to his feet from the log as well, an wry smile to curve his lips at Signe's words to her cousin. "When, not if. The Snow Raven is being lenient tonight.", he comments, though perhaps not loud enough for everyone to hear. He is wearing a simple green tunic and leather breaches today, though has not opted to go barfoot — yet at least. At Kamron's question, Glaw cannot help it. "I thought we covered that. White linen for the sacrifices.", he dares to tease the knight again, before he looks at Arian. "Or has he behaved?".

Brynmor checked his awareness of 11, he rolled 2.

"Yeah, Mawnen!" Brynmor calls out to the bird in echo of his cousin's word, but in a more annoyed tone. Once the thing flutters off, he straightens himself up, only catching the last part of Signe's words later. That doesn't sound good! Once his attention isn't so distracted, he listens in about the lamb. Something about it was making him hungry, but alas, he is disappointed to hear that it will not be part of their meal. It would take way too long to kill and cook, he's sure, if they started this late. *Ahem* "Well, that's good to hear." He decides to state regarding good signs and whatnot. It is only then that he realizes that many of these pagans are shoeless. Well, that seemed comfortable enough, so finding a good place to settle down, he begins to undo his own boots, just to fit in somewhat.

Coelwulf offers a hand to Josette, M'lady" he smiles "perhaps you would do me the honor of attending the blessing with me?" Coel wears an under tunic, plain white, and breeches, his feet are bare to show his respect to the earth mother. Yellow ribbons are set about his belt. A single garland resides there as well.

Josette smiles happily as she takes Coelwulf's offered hand and gracefully rises to her feet. Her hand reluctantly leaves Coelwulf's as she begins to follow her cousin Arian, a single garland in her hand.

The raven may or may not obey Signe, being, at best, companionable and not subservient. But she doesn't pay it any more mind, herself, moving away to partake in the ritual. One of the younger of the priests present, the wight of the honor is upon her, and she pauses to bow her head with deep respect to a hooded druid who offers her a place before the altar.
She is dressed in a grey robe, filmy and thin as if to deny the winter its power, and her feet are bare.

Better late than never, right? Gwynaelle finally appears amongst the others gathered once her family's lamb has been delivered. Dressed in a simple green gown with hints of black and white, her feet are bare and her hair left to cascade down her back. She carries a garland, the woven greenery carefully decorated with flowers and golden ribbons. Her gaze sweeps those gathered, searching, perhaps.

Kamron may relax just a little at the reassurance from Arian, nodding, "Good. She's kind of cute." Laughter lifts from his lips despite the growing eeriness of the area surrounding the henge. As the darkness falls and the firelight plays over the pale gowns of the women around him, he shifts slightly, scrubbing at his hair again, "I've behaved, Sir Glaw. I'm doing my best not to interrupt or disturb the solemnities."

"He's been behaving… mostly." Arian does cast Kamron an apologetic smile before she hefts up the lamb a bit more, and the little ewe bleats again in weak protest. She winks to Glaw before she steps up toward the path at the start of the heel stone, where other ladies and young lords gather with their arms full of lambs. There's perhaps a score of them in all. She does pause, glancing over her shoulder. "Sir Kamron… you can take a place at the embankment if you like. It gives a good view, and you won't feel too close to the excitement. Plus, there is a direct path you can take if you want to run and hide in the woods." She offers him a full smile, all dimples and teeth.

Then the bell starts to ring, tolling loudly to draw the attention of all those present. Everyone starts to cluster together. In the henge, the priests and priestesses have gathered. A priest is ringing the large bell. The central altar stone has been set up with two bowls. Signe is drawn in by an older woman — much older, in fact. Her hair is the same platinum as the young Priestess, but due to age. She murmurs something to her, and offers her the red-tinted oil. "To mark," she says quietly, and then gestures out for Signe to go bless those in attendance.

Now that he's shoeless, his toes sinking into the cold ground, Brynmor realizes that he is sans garland too. Just as well, he's not overly knowledgeable on the happenings here and is just keen enough to participate in what he deems as 'the good parts'. With his boots now safely tucked away behind some stone or other, he joins the rest once more in silent observation, though his attention is most likely focused on some of the very daring women around him, dressed as they are on this cold evening. Seeing as his cousin wanders forward to join in on this ceremony, he makes his way over to Kamron now, knowing that the others is a Christian as well. Here, he mutters quietly enough, "Are there any vendors or the like selling these garlands?" Oh, is Kamron being sent away! Well, Brynmor will just follow suit, being the other outsider as well. "Your first huh? I've been here before a few times. Not that I can keep any festival straight."

Coelwulf follow those gathered, but sticks pretty close to Josette, he casts a glance at Kamron "you can see better from the ground Kam" and he is off, quiet now, time enough for noise later afterall.

The young priestess emerges from behind the altar, a little spectral in the night nd firelight, a part of neither. She curls an arm around the small basin, and approaches the gathered and their lambs. Upon each little creature, she touches her dipped finger to their foreheads, and draws a cross. A cross! Well some of the Christians may feel comforted by that right?
As she goes, she murmurs a blessing to each, touching the creatures gently. Luckier creatures than their counterparts whose life force paints the ritual.

Glaw grins at Kamron's reassurances. "Ah, but Sir Kamron, we both know that what we think is behaving and what a woman would deem to be so are two different things.", he reminds the other Knight, grinning a bit. Only when Arian gives her seal of approval does he nods his head. As the bell tolls, his own form begins moving towards the heel stone, though it is likely his father who offers the lambs up for blessing. He is still the head of his house and perhaps Glaw is worried that the trip might be too much for the aging knight come next winter? His own path takes him closer towards his family. Garlands? Well, those will come after, right? So plenty of time to gather them from their camps. Or pick them, in case of Brynmor. Ahem.

Gwynaelle turns towards the heel as the bell tolls out over those gathered, calling them all forwards for the beginning of the ritual. Steps lead her along the cold ground, following the others who move forwards. Ahead, she spies Glaw, and hurries, murmuring soft excuses to those she might push past in her hurry to catch up. When in position, she does call out the knight's name, "Glaw!"

Kamron nods at Arian's words, "That sounds excellent. Especially the running into the woods and hiding part." His own smile matches hers, and he laughs easily. Glaw's words cause him to laugh again, "Especially this woman." Coelwulf's suggestion draws a shrug, "I'll stay apart for now, I think, Coe. Although I assure you that I mean no offense." He has no garland either, but that's probably by design. Chuckling at Brynmor's words, he shrugs a little helplessly, "Very distracting, isn't it?" Clearing his throat a little, he adds, "The fire, and the candles, and the scents, of course." He nods to the other Christian knight, gesturing toward the embankment around the henge, "Shall we, Sir Brynmor?" Raising a hand to the Pagans, he steps aside to climb up the embankment, "You've seen these before? With your family then, yes?"

"Beannaigh an tine naofa agus filte earrach!" Bless the sacred fire and welcome the spring! The elderly Priestess calls, and the crowd answers with a chorused 'Agus filte earrach!' This is repeated three times, each with a bit more fervor. Some stomp their feet, symbolizing breaking the frozen ground. Others just lift their hands with each repeated benediction.

As Signe moves down the line of lambs and their keepers, Arian smiles up to her and offers the lamb in her arm for the blessing. She murmurs a soft blessing in response to Signe's attention, and then looks back up to the elderly Priestess who continues to excite the crowd.

KAmron's words make Glaw grin even more, giving Arien a look. "She has a way with making one consider recent failings.", he states, perhaps cryptically, before he finally moves off. As his name is called however, Glaw half turns, squinting trying to figure out where the sound came from, before the eyes to find a familar face in the shifting crowds, and he smiles, stops and turns to meet her, holding out a hand for Gwynaelle. surely he will have a bit easier a time to push his way through those gathered, and then lead her back to where she can see, right? "Merry meet, Lady Gwynaelle.", he offers, once he reached her, before he soon falls quiet again, to watch the ritual, letting the Lady stand before him, to shield her in part from anyone who might press in on them from behind, and because he can look over her head. Ahem.

Signe completes the line of lambs in time, as the general blessing upon all continues in the center. When she is done she cleanses her hands in a bowl of cold water, and returns to the altar to stand behind the aged priestess.

Smiling all the more is Gwynaelle as Glaw comes her direction, then helps her forwards throught he crowd, "Merry meet to you, Sir Glaw." Surely excitement of the gathering has her cheeks blushing upon speaking to the knight, nods of her head given to those she might recognize from ohter families. As they pause, she stands before him, her shorter stature making it far easier for him to see over her head, and allows for her to lean back against him at times as the priestess' voice is heard, the young lady's responses as eager as thsoe about.

Brynmor looks impressed at seeing his young cousin so grown up during this ceremony. Then again, he probably is never with her during her other priestessly endeavors. "I'll accompany him and make sure that he doesn't run very far." He then pipes up, himself to the group, turning heel and walking beside the other Christian. "Very distracting. I could hear the chatter all the way from…" Wherever he had been napping at last, but he stops himself. "But yes. Very distracting." Of course, he could pick up these random flowers that he sees at his feet and make a garland, but that would be work. So he shall remain garland-less for the evening. To Kamron's question, he nods, stepping up onto the embankment as well now. "Something like that. I don't come very often, but when I do, I'm hardly disappointed."

"Brigid has blessed this night! Spring is coming, Winter is leaving! Each flame, no matter how small, has brought power to this night, and soon it will set fire to the snows, burning away the hold the night has had, and warming the lands for Spring!" The proclamation brings another fervor through the crowd, and feet keep stomping while others murmur prayers of thanks. "With firstborn blood, and the milk from its mother, Brigid will now speak and we will know when Winter's End comes!" The aged Priestess then turns to Signe, reaching out to touch her shoulder gentle. She nods to the bowl of lambs blood that had been gathered from the chosen sacrifice. She nods another young priest to the bowl of ewe's milk. There is a shallow bowl carved into the stone of the altar.

At this point, those in the front row of the gathering are leaning in, some are standing on toes. Others know there is no way to see what is happening beyond the broad gestures. On the embankment where Brynmor and Kamron have settled, children are scampering up to this higher ground, trying to peer over the heads of adults to spy on the happenings at the altar.

Perhaps it is clearer now why Glaw remains wearing boots, for surely he does join the ground stamping rather than merely lifting his hands. So what if the lady before him might get shaken up a little if she does lean against him. Professional Hazards, right? As the ritual begins to draw to the more somber part, Glaw takes a deeper breath, studying the priests and priestresses.

Gwynaelle draws away from Glaw, if only enough to stomp her own bare feet upon the ground, thus allowing him the room to do the same behind her. Tiptoe she may try to see what's going on, but as far back as they might be, only the general gestures will be seen of what goes on at the altar. A flash of her smile is seen as she glances over her shoulder towards the knight behind her, her head dipping forwards to reply to him quietly before attention once more turns towards the gathered priests and priestesses at the altar.

At the altar, the slim priestess Signe, in a pale, thin robe that shifts in the breeze, lifts her hands and lets down her hair. It falls in silky waves, silver in the firelight, and her rbe seems to have transformed from grey to white. A basin of inky liquid is brought before her, and a basin of creamy white. Beside her, a priest also stands as her counterpart. She extends her hands, placing them on either side of the inky bowl, her fingers curling to echo the curve of the basin. Candles are lit to either side, bringing their faces out of the darkness. Incense rises to either side, as acolytes lift bundles of smoking herbs, wafting them over the priestess and priest.
Together, they lift the bowls, she the blood and he the milk, and two streams of liquid mingle in the altar's basin.
There is a moment of profound stillness at the altar.
It is Signe who speaks, like a voice coming from everywhere at once, peculiar acoustics.
"The hag gathers wood in yonder forest. The dy has been long, the sun has been bright. Serpent will you slither forth from the thawing earth? Badger will you wake? Cailleach go home! It will rain tonight, I feel a sharp chill on the wind and mothers must hold their children tight. For tonight will be cold and dark, and the Spring will dawn fresh and bright." Her voice gathers volume like the earth gathers light t sunrise, a victorious intonation against the darkness of the winter, and the survival of those who have gathered here.
"Now who will come forth to receive Brigid's blessing. to show their faith in the signs of nature?"

Coelwulf looks to Josette, smiles a bit, then picks his way through the crowd until he stands before Signe. He looks up to the Preistess.

Kamron arches his brow at Brynmor's words, "Oh? What would you be disappointed by, Sir Brynmor?" Studying the ceremony from atop the embankment, he crouches down, casting his eyes over the crowd. The bright blaze of the bonfires has already ruined his night vision, so he doesn't bother looking around behind him, instead soaking in the… energy. "The words may be different, and the rites, but there is something about this that is like a high holiday at Cathedral."

The aged Priestess smiles gently at Signe's words, and then she turns to the crowd, raising her arms. "Tonight shall be cold, and the winter raians will come! But our fires burn bright and strong, and dawn brings Spring! Our role tonight is to ensure the fires do not falter, and that Brigid's blood burns through our veins. Blessed be this night, for now we live in the Days of Brigid!"

That said, a cheer goes up and already wood is being brought forward to feed the fires. Arian is amongst those who are approaching the altar for a blessing, while others are starting to disperse through the steaming grasses to prepare for the bonfire dances. The elderly priest and priestess leave the blessings to the younger ones, and Signe and her counterparts move around to bless those in attendance.

Signe dips her finger in the mingled swirl of milk and blood, stirring. She lifts it and applies it to his forehead, drawing a cross. "Your faith and dedication to the goddess will bear you up. May your spring be fruitful." She smiles to him in a mild and knowing way.

Josette follows behind Coelwulf as he cuts his way through the crowd, following the path with a smile, she looks up to the Priestess as well.

Glaw is holding out an arm in the direction of the altar, with a questioning look at Gwyn, perhaps to indicate that he intends to go and to see if she does as well. Stepping up, he waits for the his turn patiently enough, eyes to track Signe as she makes her rounds, perhaps somewhat thoughtful.

Gwynaelle nods her head once as Glaw points towards the altar, and soon moves forwards, to take her place in line to receive her own blessing from those younger priests and priestesses giving them out. Excitement still has her face flushed, body moving even while standing in line. Ready to dance is the young lady!

Brynmor turns to regard Kamron with a brief look in response to his question, "Nothing here." His gaze trails forward to further observe the goings-on, "But both you and I know how stuffy religious ceremonies can be." This is said more as an off-handed thing and he doesn't think twice about his words. "Anyway," He returns to look at the other Christian, even clapping him on the shoulder as he flashes a smile, "It's time to drink and be merry. Always the best part of any festivity, right?"

Signe repeats the application of blood and milk to Josette's forehead, making a cross. "Your fith and dedication are noted by the holy ones," she says. Each application and spoken words may be mildly different. On the whole, for most, it is all the same. Here and there a variation in the fortunre may be spoken. Rarely, something vague but deeply personal seems to pass the priestss's lips.
Arian receives also a promise of good fortune and fair winds.
And then there is Glaw. SIgne's mild smile with its underpinings of secret knowledge falters, and she gazes for a long moment upon him. Long enough that two drops of blood fall slowly one after another from her index finger.
"Glaw of the wood," she murmurs, so softly that even the priest by her side leans foward to hear.
"Glaw of the wood, I have feared for you." SIgne's eyes are distant, her pupils strangely dilated.

A grin crosses Coels faith at the blessing well pleased to receive the favor of the godess, he steals a glance toward Josette, then the others who have come foreward.

Glaw watches as Signe approaches. Of course it had to be her, not one of the others to reach him first. As the Priestress falters, he blinks, a mixture of doubt and perhaps stubborness to cross his features, perhaps thinking she would withhold the blessing. The words that come, however, the distant look in the priestress eyes? They square Glaw's shoulders, lift his chin. "But not anymore, prietress?", he answers, perhaps cryptically but rather firmly, using her title rather than her name as well, seeking to hold that fare-away look. And wait for her to decide. Again.

Signe speaks again, like a voice from the grave, from the Otherworld where her patron reigns.
"You are hunted, warrior. He has haunted your steps, oh! these long years. Have you not felt his presence? Has his warm breath made you shiver as you sat on a cold night before your fire? Have you felt it upon your neck and wondered? Have you heard the rustle in the brush and not known what hare or serpent or fox you have disturbed? It is none of them. He hungers for your heart…"
"…and I am to blame."

Josette curiously listens to the blessings that others recieve. She is ever to eager to dance however. Though what Signe says to Glaw catches her attention and she listens to the conversation between the two. Looking a bit surprised at the words that leave Signe's lips.

The smile falters somewhat upon Gwynaelle's lips as Signe approaches and gives such an odd blessing to begin with. But as the young priestess continues and her words all the more dark, the young lady frowns, pressing closer to Glaw as if somehow, she might protect the knight. Briefly does she glance about, looking to the crowd, then back to Signe again.

Arian bows her head before she receives the mark, and she murmurs a thanks for the promise of fortune and fair winds. She moves off with her lamb in tow, but will be quick to hand the little sheepling off to a younger member of house Laverstock to see that the fluff is brought back to her mother for nursing. She breathes in the fragrant oil that was used to bless the lamb, and then turns to the bonfires. She is no more than a handful of steps into the bonfire area before she is abruptly swept up by one of the passing lords in a dance. She is sent into a mass of giggles, though quickly finds her strides as she falls into the twirling dance that is not at all about skill and more about emotion. No courtly dancing here.

Kamron watches the daubing of the faithful, frowning thoughtfully, "The cross?" Blinking, he looks back up to Brynmor from his crouch. He rocks lightly under the clap on his shoulder, flashing a chuckling grin up at the other watcher, "I'm in favor of eating, drinking, and making merry. I'm curious what they're saying, however, especially with that cross being used so often." He rises from his crouch as the dancing begins in the wake of the blessings, chuckling softly, "There's the merriment." His eyes follow a particular figure through the swirl of natural fabrics, and then he shakes his head, chuckling to himself.

That was not what Glaw had been expecting, but with her words his shoulder square even further. "My decision, priestress, not yours.", he dares to argue, to deny her blame easily. "I am no easy prey to hunt, no Hart. So not yet, Lady Signe. Not yet.". Overconfident perhaps some might call it, and yet the young knight does not seem to hold much doubt. "Until then, will you grant me Brigid's blessing, priestress?", he inquires. Gwyn's tensing beside him surely is noted, but there is no explanations offered.

The priestess doesn't seem to hesitate, or, at least, she does not seem unwilling. The tip of her finger touches him at his hairline, and the finger is drawn slowly down to the top of his nose. Then lifted and place to the right, drawn to the left.
"When you find yourself at the crossroads, Glaw of the wood, my Brigid be at your side. Someday you will join the wolf. May that day not be soon. And when your heart is in doubt, remember this blessing, all your life. She is with you. She will always be with you, whether you want her or not." She withdraws her hand. Apparently it's over.

Gwynaelle listens to the words exchanged between knight and priestess, brows soon to furrow slightly in deep thought mixed with a little curiosity, no doubt. Quiet is she, otherwise, standing at Glaw's side and waiting, listening carefully. One can be sure that there will be questions put forth.. later. A breath is taken, released as the blessing is then given, finally.

Brynmor, truthfully, has only been catching minor glimpses of the ceremony altogether, his attention focused more on the fairer of the participants all lined up for their blessing or whatnot. There seems to be some sort of standstill, however, and when Kamron brings his attention back to the main portion of the ceremony, he looks a bit wary himself. "I can't say, really. But I suppose I can inquire at some point." Especially as he has family giving out blessings or omens or.. well, at the head of the line. If Signe was done with her pagan duty, he would have gone over to her just now, but seeing as she is still busy, his gaze follows all of the dancing going on. "Right." Though his own eyes may not have landed on Arian in particular. "The drinks aren't going to come to us." Though seeing as there are those who are serving, he adds in thoughtfully, "Or will they?"

Glaw seems to relax his stance a little as she begins to draw the cross, when her words begin, and yet, towards the ned his eyes have slightly narrowed, watching Signe move off. No, it is not malice in that gaze, but perhaps a promise of further discussion. Still, he offers his thanks for the blessing, before he finally steps to the side to let Gwynaelle and those beside her take their turns. No frowning, Glaw. That messes up the cross now. Only once the lady has recieved her own blessing, does he move away back towards the frindge of the circle, seeking to offer his arm to the Lady. Curiosity and Questions. Yes, THAT he may dread more than being stalked by said wolf. Ahem.

Arian is finally deposited near the fires, breathless and laughing. She brushes away her hair, tucking a bit behind her ear. She stumbles a bit as she gets her bearings once more, and then starts toward where the Laverstocks are gathering so she can grab a drink and a tear of bread before she is undoubtedly swept back up again. She scans the embankment, searching for where her dear Christian has gone. When she spies him, she brightens a bit. She takes the skin, and starts toward where the two Christians are hidden away.

Gwynaelle's blessing is more…normal, if you wnat to call it that. The blessing, the assertion of her faith acknowledged, the cross in blood on the lady's forehead. The young priestess continues for a time, with peasant, farmer, and noble alike treated the same. Eventually one of the other priest's takes over for her, and she bathes her hands first in water and then in smoke, smudging the air around her, drinking a deep goblet of mead, and generally trying to shake off the abundance of images both confusing and disturbing that crown her mind. She searches for family in the crowd, knowing there will be almost no one. Brynmor will do, and there he is. SHe heads his way.

As Signe given Glaw her blessing her eyes then look away and she begins to dancing, twirling about happily, quick to loose herself in the happiness of the festival.

Normal. This is good. OR so Gwynaelle might say. She barely keeps from fidgetting while the cross of blood and milk is made upon her forehead. Only once it is done, does she young lady step away with a soft word of thanks to the priestess. Seeking Glaw out, she moves to his side, and then further away from those still lined up for their blessing. Oh, yes, Curiosity and Questions to come.

"Have you made any bets on who will receive the most garlands, Sir Brynmor?" Kamron's words are still light, despite the heathen festival kindling and blazing all around him. "I can ask Sir Arian about the meaning." Stretching slowly, he looks down the embankment and shrugs, "Perhaps I'll do that. Wouldn't want to keep you out of the fun either." And oh look, there is his heathen tour guide coming up toward him. Offering out his hand to the other man, he shrugs, "Thank you for keeping my soul safe up here, Sir Brynmor."

Once Brynmor's hand as been shaken, Kamron starts down from the embankment, "Sir Arian… you look as if you're enjoying yourself already. And without any drink, either."

Signe arrives upon Kamron and Brynmor, giving the former mildly curious look as he seems to be departing. She looks to her cousin, and arches a brow.

As Signe given Glaw her blessing, Josette's eyes then look away and she begins to dancing, twirling about happily, quick to loose herself in the happiness of the festival.

Coelwulf joins the dance as well, the pagan Knight strips his tunic showing his contempt for winter, his broad chest bearing a series of ritual scars looking all the world like some great beast has tried to rend him.

"If I were to make a bet, I would say the prettiest one will receive the most garlands." Brynmor says safely enough, then adds, "But there are plenty of pretty faces and then some here." His is glad for the warmth which the bonfires give and even more pleased by the dancing and twirling going on, his eyes glancing over at Josette for a moment, before he realizes Kamron was still here. That is when he sees two very familiar figures making their approach and to his Christian companion's words of thanks, he responds, "You bet." His tone then rises, "Sir Arian and… my lovely cousin. Oh right. Have you met with Sir Kamron de Dinton yet? He is here to observe and, hopefully, experience some of your festivities first hand."

Glaw will end up in a bit of a more ponderous mood rather than merrymaking for now. Odd that. As Gwyn catches up to him once more, however, he offers her a somewhat crooked smile, soon to lean in. "I am not very good at making things up to you apparently.", he says, chuckling. Dire predictions on Brigid's day surely were not in his plans for today. He then glances around breifly. Embankment. Yep, that might be the salvation to escape the questions that surely would otherwise come, right? "Would you like me to introduce you to the others?", he offers, hopefully. Distraction!

Arian wrinkles up her nose. "Do you not get exhilarated by your own ceremonies, Sir Kamron?" She starts to laugh, offering out the skin to him. Is this not how Eve tempted Adam? With wine? Or was that some kind of fruit… The Knight looks past the Dinton toward Signe and Brynmor, and she offers the pair a soft smile and bobbing head in greeting. Then Kamron has her attention once more. "Wine, take it…" She then steps back a bit, observing the excitement that grows in the open space. "So, Sir Byrnmor… are you going to have enough energy to dance?"

"I see, and how have our Christian guests felt about these rites? Bryn can attest I've been liberally exposed to all manner of Christian ceremonies and rituals, and I often consider the differences profound." There, Glaw may think she's out to start a holy war but apparently…
"For your sakes I will explain— the Spring will be a fitting frame for the nuptials of our Christian king, and he can thank tonight impending storm for that."

Gwynaelle quirks a brow as Glaw attempts to divert her questions with distractions. The look given to him even as she smiles and nods her head, shows that it will only be a distraction for a short time. Those questions /will/ come! "Introductions would be nice, thank you… and then perhaps a dance?" As for the last, an edge of teasing enters her voice, even as she accepts his arm once offered.

Josette checked her lustful of 13, she rolled 5.

Josette's eyes linger upon Coelwulf as he removes his tunic and shows off the scars upon his chest, a blush crosses her cheeks as she draws her eyes away as she continues to dance about.

Kamron chuckles at Brynmor's words, "Haven't you learned by now, Sir Brynmor? Every woman is beautiful." He stops two steps down the inside of the embankment as he introduced to the pale priestess, bowing his head in polite greeting, "Lady. A pleasure to meet you. I think in general I will stick to observing." His right hand touches his chest, where the iron cross hangs underneath his tunic, "And yes, Sir Arian, sometimes a Christian ceremony can be most inspiring and exhilarating." He does, however, take the wineskin, taking a pull from it, "Very different from this one, but as…" the knight struggles to find the right word, "…bright. In the soul."

While Brynmor may have been free to joke about their own Christian ceremonies with the other Christian, he decides he'd rather not bring it up in the presence of the pagans. So rather than speak his mind, he will allow Kamron to do so. He then looks for his own wine when wine is offered! But Arian's question makes him bristle somewhat. "I cannot say, My Lady. We shall see as the night continues on for I have been traveling the road for most of the day and could, in fact, use a drink right about now." There may be some truth to his words, like the last part.

At his cousin's question, Brynmor first turns to Kamron, believing the knight's response may answer some of what was asked. "He hasn't fled the scene, now has he? So I will assume that he found it of interest or fascinating." He waves a dismissive hand right about now. Hearing Signe's explanation, however, he casts a glance at all of the dancers frolicking about, "Bring on the rain then, I say."

Coelwulf checked his lustful of 13, he rolled 19.
Coelwulf checked his chaste of 7, he rolled 10.
Coelwulf checked his Dancing of 5, he rolled 8.
Coelwulf checked his Energetic of 13, he rolled 10.

Not what one might call a graceful Dancer, Coelwulf covers lack of skill with youthful energy, those unlucky enough to be close, and not the object of his attention might well be stepped upon or knocked about. He works closer to the lovely Josette, a broad smile on his face as he draws nearer and nearer.

Glaw offers quieter words to Gwynaelle as they walk, soon to rise up to the embankment as well. surely with Gwyn on his arm, he at least can dodge any twirling maidens, tough he might have to look sternly at some men who might try to snatch Gwyn up until he manages to bring them up to the gathered group. "May I introduce?", he wonders, once there is a gap in Conversation. "Lady Gwynaelle of Idmiston.". He then does go in turn, introducing Arin, Signe, her cousin Brynmor and finally Kamron. "Apparently they sought to observe us to see if the Romans's slander is accurate.", he teases.

Josette checked her dancing of 15, she rolled 8.

Josette continues to dance around with grace and poise, her eyes watching Coelwulf as he makes his way towards her, a gentle giggle escaping her lips as other move to not become stepped upon.

Gwynaelle exchanges a few moments of quiet conversation with Glaw, her brows once more furrowing just a little at something said. And yet,t he next instance, there's a moment of teasing that is exchanged with a flash of her smile, one that fades slightly as they head towards the enbankment. Her gaze seems to study those gathered that they head towards, and with introductions, offers polite nods of her head to each inturn, "Happy Imbolc to each of you.." Hearing of those that have come to witness the evening's entertainment, she chuckles softly, "And the verdict? " She cannot help but wonder.

Kamron shrugs his shoulders slightly at Signe's query, "Very colorful, Lady. The literal blood is disturbing, but with our own figurative blood-rites, I suppose it is not completely wild."

"Oh, we keep THOSE ceremonies more private," Signe says wryly as she takes a skin of mead off a passing drunken man. She smiles faitly at Glaw before abruptly shifting her eyes, and— she was introduced at some point right? She acknowledges those gathered near, Kamron, Arian, Gwynaelle. She takes a long drink again. These nights may be festive for most but sometimes they leave her…unsettled, burdened.
Signe could…say…something to Kamron. Things are stirring behind her eyes. But all she says is "Sacrifice does figure prominently in your faith."

Critical Fail!
Arian checked her lustful of 16, she rolled 20.

"If you decide you have it in you, Sir Brynmor… let me know. I'll make sure you are treated kindly." Her dimples flash sweet and warm at the Knight before she turns her attention back to Kamron. She then reaches to touch the Dinton's arm, but she abruptly thinks better of it, and demures. "I think Sir Kamron's verdict is still being decided, honestly. He has only seen one festival, at best." Proper and polite, and entirely unlike the Pagan girl and her passionate ways. She glances over toward Signe as she prompts a conversation of faith, and she takes another swallow from the wineskin as she seems to be holding back a touch.

Kamron bows his head to Glaw and Gwynaelle as they approach, "Lady Gwynaelle, it is a pleasure. I think that thus far," although he does glance to Signe at her more dire words, "the Romans have exaggerated quite a lot." A crooked, cocky grin twists his lips, "Then again, the night is young, and the garlands have not even made their appearances yet, now have they?" Nodding to the priestess, he adds, "Indeed it does. There is little more powerful than the sacrifice of a willing martyr. Although, from the few details that I know, it is the willingness that matters, not the blood." As Arian lifts her arm and then lets it drop, his smile falters, and he looks curiously to the lady knight. And then he offers out his left arm to her before he glances to the cross of blood and milk on her brow, "You look energized, Lady Arian. Enthused."

In response to Arian now about the dancing, Brynmor mumbles something or other. One can hardly tell. Instead, he looks down at Signe's meadskin expectantly, before he cautious asks his cousin, "That's more of a thought and a comment, right? Rather than, you know." He then gestures in the distance where the blessings and omen thing went on. And though he couldn't clearly hear all that was said, some of it seemed rather ominous from some of the reactions. He doesn't Signe telling Kamron's fortune or whatever it is that they do! But Kamron makes it all the more clear, so Brynmor decides to allow his fellow Christian and his good cousin to converse about such matters that truly do not interest him much. At the approach of Sir Glaw and his lady friend, the Steeple Langford knight bows his head, "It's good to see you in pleasant company, Sir Glaw." He extends to the other knight, before addressing Gwynaelle, "My Lady."

"Ah, sir Glaw, Lady Gwynaelle, let me introduce my cousin, who's father has married my mother and created much familial confusion," Signe says a little irreveerantly before drinking again from the skin of mead, nad passing it to Bryn.

Glaw tilts his head a little, and once introductions are done, listening to the topics that are starting to come to the fore, with Signe and Kamron taking the fore for each side. He does not even give Signe a clearing of his throat. He had said what he thought to say, and the decision is hers. Bryn's words are chuckled at, and he nods his head. "Very pleasant company. I have been a page and started my squirehood with her Father.", he explains about Gwyn. When Arian goes suddenly subdued, however, Glaw turns to Gwyn, seeking to lift her hand for a moment. "If you excuse me for a moment?", he offers, then steps to the side, a few steps down the embankment, before lifting his hand to gesture to Cadfen, his squire, who had been apparently standing by on orders to find him after the rituals. Glaw soon takes one Garland from the boy, before he finally releases him to run off with a few more on his arm to try his luck. As he makes his way back up the Embankment, Kamron's words make him chuckle a little. "Well, then let me introduce you to this particular custom.", he tells the other knight, soon to step up to Arian, to give her a faint smile, holding out the garland towards her. "Sir Arian?", he tries to draw her attention towards him, to step up and try to hang said garland around her neck, unless she interceps it.

Gwynaelle smiles to each of the knights in turn with introductions, a soft chuckle to escape when Glaw mentions having paged and squired for her father, "A horrible one he was.." Such a tease given to the knight at her side who soon excuses himself for a moment. A tilt of her head is given, her gaze to watch as he heads over to his squire to fetch a garland, though one might note a touch of surprise upon her face for anyone who pays such close attention when it is offered to Sir Arian.

"Merry met, Lady Gwynaelle," Arian says dutifully with a small smile. She seems to be a little cautious around the Dinton, but she lightens a touch when he offers his arm to hers. She takes it, drawing up closer against the man's side. She blushes softly at the compliment to her state, and she gestures a bit. "I am…" She then looks back toward the others as introductions are offered and polite conversation is had. Though then Glaw has a garland, and she is blinking in surprise at him as she steps away a bit from Kamron, her fingers slipping off his arm. Her cheeks go an immediate pink at the garland, and she dips her head slightly at the offered affection. "Sir Glaw…" She glances slightly toward Gywnaelle, and she stops his wrist gently. She does not reject him outright though, but takes the garland so she can wind it around her wrist and forearm — a teasing maybe.

At a lull in the dancing Coelwulf catches Josette's hand, drawing her out of the dance. Once away from the whirling and writhing mass of dancing pagan's Coel looks into Josette's eyes, then slips the garland from his belt, offering it out to her. The tall Knights skin glistens with sweat from the dancing, and the heat of the bon fires. He draws several dep breathes as he awaits her response.

Josette follows Coel to where he leads her out of the dancing, a blush and bright smile curl her lips as Coelwulf offers his garland to her. Her hand gently wraps around it and then places it upon her neck. The garland in her hand then being offered to Coelwulf, seeing if he will accept her garland in turn."

Coel slips to a knee and bows his head allowing her to place it about his neck with her own hands. The smile on the tall Knights face clear to all.

Kamron checked his intrigue at 3, he rolled 8.

Kamron glances over at Glaw as the man steps up toward Arian, his spine straightening and his brows lifting in surprise, and perhaps in dismay. It's not obvious, but it's also not particularly well hidden. He takes in a breath as the taller knight reaches out, then follows the path of the garland to Arian's wrist. "Well, that's a delightful start to the evening, now isn't it?" There's a waver in his voice, adrenaline twisting his words before he pushes a smile across his lips, "I wonder how many more you will collect tonight, Sir Arian? And quite daring of you, Sir Glaw. I know that Sir Arian intimidates many of the poor men around her."

Lili arrives a bit late to the festivities, seems that worrying about the whereabouts of her sister caused her to take a much longer nap than she meant to. But she is making her way towards the celebration with a smile. Her footsteps lead her over to the large group of Kamron, Glaw, Aerin, Brynmor, Gwynaelle and Signe.

Brynmor /gladly/ accepts the skin given him by his cousin, only to find that there is very little drink left within. Narrowing his eyes sharply at Signe, he finishes the mead off, nevertheless. He can't complain about that. It is however, rather surprising, when the whole garland thing is brought up and this sets the wheat haired knight's mind in motion, finally remembering exactly what these garlands meant. Oh man. So all he can do is blink when he watches Glaw approach Arian with an offering of garland. "Well that was unexpected." Is all he can murmur under his breath before trying to return the empty skin back to his cousin. To follow Kamron's lead, he goes on to say, "I'm sure that each of the women here will have as many garlands where they won't be able to see over them all, around their necks, or move their arms as easily."

Josette giggles happily and places the garland upon his neck, her own smile beaming upon her face as she looks into Coel's piercing blue eyes, awaiting for him to rise back to his feet.

Coel rises slipping his arms about Josette and twirling her about, holding her form tight to his as he does, sure that the smell of strange Knight will go unnoticed in her camp!

Signe chuckles softly. "I would not worry too much, Sir Kamron, if I interpret your bristling correctly. Amongst the nobles who owe fealty to the earl, the garlands have little meaning. He pays no mind to the Brigid's rites, when making up his mind. It is more a matter for the…the farmers and woodsmen." She passes her gaze over the revelers. Her own neck and arms are free of leaves, but maybe that's just how it is for the clergy. She takes the skin back from Bryn and then frowns at him when she sees it is drained. That was her medicine!

Glaw's hand is stopped, the garland taken only to be wraped around her wrist, and Glaw grins at Arian. "I see.", he offers back. Oh, his chin lifts a little at first, but finally he offers the other knight a bit of a bow, before he glances at Kamron. "That…wasn't quite the showing I was hoping for.", he admits, perhaps a touch chargrinned, but as the knight speaks of intimidation, Glaw shakes his head. "Well, a woman with her fire and skill should not be for the faint of heart, should she?", he comments back, green eyes to once more turn to Arian. "If less brave men let her pass by, that is hardly an concern of mine.". He then offers a somewhat crooked smile. "So you will make me wait for your answer. Fair enough.", he half complaints, half seems to try to play over it with amusment. Only then does he step back, to walk the half step to Gwyn's side again. Signe's words draw eyebrows upwards briefly at her, before he nods at Bryn. "There will be plenty of garlands on men and women alike.", he predicts, rather.

Gwynaelle's gaze seems to narrow slightly, more in some idle thought than anger, as she watches the going ons and listens to the comments that pass between the various people. As someone steps to her side, she turns, thanking the handmaiden who has finally found her with a skin of drink in hand. A thankful comment is given before the girl is released of duty to go have some fun herself before the bonfires amongst the others.

Josette giggles happily as Coel picks her up in his arms and spins her about, her own arms wrapping about Coelwulf. More than likely if her brother was present he would be giving her a scolding but that thought isn't currently present in her mind.

Arian smiles softly at Glaw, and she offers his wrist the softest squeeze before she retreats a step. "I will not let you wait long, Sir Glaw." Then she glances back to Kamron, and her gaze lingers on his for a long moment, particularly after Signe's comments. Her pink blush redoubles a bit, and she shakes her head a bit. She speaks nothing more to it, taking another swallow from her wineskin before she offers it to Byrnmor — who must be collecting them at this point with the meadskin already in hand. "Sir Kamron," she says after a moment, "do you care for a walk? I can show you more of the festivities." Like a proper heathen tour guide.

Coelwulf settles Josette on the ground and takes her hand, noding toward a spot nearing the woods. He whispers something in her ear as he starts to lead her away.

Kamron blinks at Signe, the flush in his cheeks and his over-large ears halfway hidden by the blaze of the bonfires all around them. "I'm… not sure what you mean, Lady Signe." His right hand smooths down the front of his tunic, trying to straighten it up unconsciously. Nodding at Glaw's words, he chuckles a little tightly, "No woman should be for the faint of heart, Sir Glaw, let alone one of fire and skill." Arian's offer draws a nod of his head, "Of course. There are a few things I'm curious about, actually." Once more, he offers out his left arm for the lady knight, "If you will excuse me, M'Lords, M'Ladies." Lili is included in the nod as she approaches the group and Kam moves to depart with Arian.

SIgne doesn't reply with anymore than a smile. She inclines her head to Kamron and then to Arian also.

Of course, Brynmor accepts the offered wineskin now, bowing his head in Arian's direction just as he accepts it from her grasp, "Have I told you how lovely you look this evening, Sir Arian?" Always the charmer when it comes to drink! As his posture straightens, he gladly breathes in deeply the content of the wineskin to make up for all that effort he just made as a show of gratitude to the 'intimidating' lady knight. Catching the look cast his way by his cousin, he makes a 'what?' gesture with a lift of his shoulders and arms. "You started it." He points out in regards to the already near empty meadskin! Seeing as the other Christian knight seems to be in good hands now, Brynmor no longer needs to play chaperone of body guard or what have you and he can better relax. "Well so far, this has been interesting." He comments to no one in particular, perhaps like hearing himself talk.

Lili offers a return nod to Kamron as he walks off on a tour with Sir Arian. "Merry meet to you all, how does the blessed evening treat everyone?" is kindly asked to those her currently remain. Her gaze falls upon Brynmor as she kindly requests "Good I partake of your wineskin?"

Josette blushes as Coelwulf takes her hand and listens to the whisper as he leads her towards the spot in the woods. Her response of "Yes we shall" is soft enough for Coelwulf to here before she is off to talk a stroll with him as well.

With Kamron gone and pagans remaining, Signe looks at the lone Christian. "Does your father know where you've gone off to?" she inquires conversationally. "He'll be very angry if he finds out you came -here- and aren't to be found with the proper whores."

Glaw nods his head to Kamron as he excuses himself and Arian, giving the male knight a longer look. "Very well. I hope we shall see each other again, before the night is over.", he wishes to the man, before giving Arian a simple nod of his head. Then there is that moment of ackward pause that always follows a departure, only for Lili to chime in, and Glaw nods his head at her as well. "Ah, merry meet, Lady Lili.", he offers, then pauses, remembering his manners for once. "Have you met Lady Gwynaelle of Idmiston and Lady Signe of Steeple Langford, yet?".

Gwynaelle offers her own quiet goodbyes to those leaving before opening the skin held in her hands. A sip is taken, a daity thing at the moment before it's closed once more. With Lili's arrival, and the introduction that comes, she gives the other lady a smile, "Good evening ot you, Lady Lili." Quietly does she then offer the skin to Glaw, if he might wish to partake of the wine within.

On the horizon, dark clouds have started to gather and begin to blot out the clouds and hovering moon. Rain is coming…

Coel gathers his boots, tunic and cloak before walking toward the forest with Josette, chatting softly as they go.

"You have now, Sir Byrnmor," Arian says in a quick retort. She is all smiles as she draws her arm around his, though now Glaw's garland brushes across their twined arms. She glances over toward the Dinton knight as she draws him away from the gathering. "Are you faring alright, Sir Kamron?" The Lady Knight is gentle with the poor Christian knight, as if he might be in a fragile state surrounded by all these Pagans. She is leading him away, and on the outskirts of the dancing that continues to be bright and lively.

After another swig from the wineskin, Brynmor scratches idly at the underside of his chin, having lifted it a touch, looking annoyed and thoughtful at the same time at Signe. "No. And you're not going to tell him that I was here." It almost seems that he would add 'If you know what's best', but not that his cousin would care. His arm lowered, he explains, "I don't think he'd mind my not spending a cent out of his coffers when I gladly accept the good hospitality of our pagan neighbors right here. Don't you agree?" Ah, is someone speaking to him! When Lili approaches and asks for a drink from the passed around wineskin, he more than obliges with a flourishing enough bow, "Who could say no to a beauty like that." Extending the wineskin forward, he then introduces himself, "Sir Brynmor de Steeple Langford at your service, My Lady." When the sky darkens, he almost regrets that he had once said to bring on the rain, but then again wet shifts and tunics and the like are never a bad thing.

Signe wryly grins at Brynmor, and doesn't ommit to not telling on him. But such is her way. "My dearest, you are like a brother to me, but more a cousin." Whatever that means. She knows the rain is coming. She said so. The brewing stormclouds draw her gaze. And with that it seems she grows distant from the others gathered.

"Unless I end up in white linen, I think we should be able to arrange that, Sir Glaw." And then Kamron is gone, leading Arian off into the festivities… or allowing himself to be led by her, it's sort of difficult to tell. "I have a lovely lady on my arm, the firelight is bright and warm, and the weather is good — for now." He's silent for a pair of steps, and then he looks down to the garland, "Sir Glaw is a good match, if it comes to that. Although I know that you said the garlands are not always about making a match, but simply about interest."

Glaw blinks a little at Signe's words, and then at Brynmor's reply, before he he finally frowns faintly at the man. So far, no comment is made however, perhaps curious as to where _that_ conversation will lead. The offered wineskin from Gwyn is gladly accepted, however, and he thanks her quietly, before taking a sip, then offering it back to her. When he finally speaks, he lifts an eyebrow. "Is that more a family matter that we should leave you to?", he offers, though clearly by offering it so openly, it is clear he does not truely expect to be kept out of it? His eyes brielf light on Lili then again.

Arian continues to guide Kamron around the fires and dancing. Her blue eyes glance his way at his compliment, and her pale smile softens a touch. Though all it takes is mentioning Glaw and matches to cause that small curve of lips to falter into a frown. "I do not think it will come to that," she says, attempting to sound disinterested. She glances over her shoulder to where they had left Glaw and his companions. Then she glances to the dancers. "Do you dance, Sir Kamron?"

While the wineskin is in Glaw's hand, Gwynaelle glances to theothers, half listening to Signe and Brynmor's comments to one another. Amusement may well show upon her face at some of what is discussed, though she soon turns away when Glaw speaks up after handing the wineskin back. A glance over one shoulder to see wher eArian and Kamron are, and she seems to settle, and make a decision, "Would you like to dance now, Sir Glaw?"

"Bryn knows all about the 'old' gods," Signe notes. "He is one of us. He just hasn't acknowledged it yet." She smiles in such a way that suggests she could be on a lark. "But uncle will blame me for that, as he would blame me if he found out Bryn was here, eyeing fresh faced maids and drinking elderberry wine. And I will gladly take the blame, for it will really be an honour."

But then, Signe is drawn away by a cloaked and hooded man. The other priests are gathered for some purpose, and she must go.

When Signe goes on about… who knows what, Brynmor merely stands there and lifts his shoulders up once more to Glaw and Gwynaelle, seeing as his cousin speaks out to them. Though once she departs, he clears his throat and murmurs, "Don't mind my words, they are merely laid out there to get my dear cousin… sister off my back." Not that he felt he needed to explain himself, but he didn't want any further misunderstandings. His eyes then follow along when the darkly cloaked figure escorts his cousin away. "Seeing that the sky is darkening and the festivities have only just begun, I hope that you both enjoy the rest of your evening." With that, he flashes a smile at this Lili, "And perhaps we will meet again, My Lady."

Signe's words make Glaw shake his head a little. "I am sorry to hear that your uncle has such a narrow view of us.", he says, simply enough, looking at Bryn, perhaps planning to say more, but as he offers his own farewells, Glaw merely nods his head. "The sky darkening is a good sign.", he reminds him, but then nods. "Farewell, Sir Brynmor of Steeple Langford.", he intones, almost a touch too formal. It is then that Gwyn's question makes him laugh, however. "You are braver than I have you credit for, if you wish to chance a dance with me, dear Lady Gwynaelle.", he says, chuckling.

Goodbyes are offered those leaving,t he cloaked figure leading Signe off to gain a longer look from the young lady of Idmiston. But, the question is asked of Glaw, and his response brings a quiet laugh to her throat, "I know better than that.. father always did say you were light upon your feet during your training."

Lili gently shakes her head as she responds "No I have not had the pleasure, merry meet to both of you Lady Gwynaelle and Lady Signe. I am Lady Lili of Shrewton. I do hope that the evening trust all well." She curtsies polite to each woman when she says each name. Her attention then returns to Glaw as she says "You are ever so pleasant with your manners Sir Glaw, it is a pleasure to experience them once more."

Glaw laughs once more when her father is brought up, "Are you sure his words were not akin to me prancing like a horse in front of the carrot field? That sounds more like him.", Glaw comments, before he extends his arm to the Lady Idmiston to take her up despite his self-disparring comments. As lili speaks, however, he lifts an eyebrow. "I…thank you, Lady Lili, but I assure you I am often reminded how lacking my manners are. Just ask my twin sister.". Who probably does most of the complaining. "But I shall have to prove my bad manners once more, and beg your excuse while I lead Lady Gwynaelle on to her possibly last dance.". He grins at that.

Lili is now wishing more than ever that she had not overslept as most of those have left for the evening. She offers a quiet nod to Glaw as she takes a seat upon the log by herself and lets her eyes go to watch the fire, her two garlands resting in her lap as those who were her intendeds have disappeared for the time being.

Gwynaelle offers Glaw a sweet smile at his words about her father's likely comment about his grace, only to end up laughing once again, "Well…" She does offer before Lili's compliment given the knight has her nodding a little, as if to agree with the other lady about his manner. But seeing that he is accepting her offer to dance, she offers a goodbye to Lili, allowing Glaw to then lead her off towards one of the bonfires where the dancing is in full swing as the storm clouds above gather.

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