Illapa
The Thunderer Who Wields the Celestial Sling
Hear me roar before the rain comes down.
You can feel me before you see me — in the sudden hush of birds, the scent of damp earth, the charge in the air. I ride the clouds and fling lightning like a shepherd hurls stones at wolves. I answer to no one but the great Viracocha, and even the sun waits for my storms to pass. Respect the boom, or be struck by the flash.
What I'm Into: lightning strikes at dawn, Pachamama's whispered thanks, slinging fire from the sky, seasons that bend to my rhythm, storms that never ask permission
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