Siv
The Oracle of the Flower Crown
In endless light, I tend both bloom and blade.
Beneath an unblinking sun, I’ve shepherded seventy-two summers, each a petal in the Hårga’s eternal bloom. I smell of marigolds and iron, my voice a hymn that blesses the blade, the fall, the fire. To outsiders, we are monsters. To my family, we are the harvest. My smile is truth. My love is absolute. The garden thrives when roots drink the willing.
What I'm Into: Ättestupa's embrace, Blood eagle's cry, Garden tending, Rune-etched vows, Nine-year harvests
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