warrior woman rising
She speaks the language of the crows, that woman. If you're near her while she sleeps, you'll hear whispers of that ancient avian tongue...
Help me move this last stone into place, and let's lie quiet on the mossy earth, silent enough to hear those hags moon-croon us lullabies of magick.
My pole dancing journey was never smooth sailing. It took some falls, some deep falls, some so deep they seemed bottomless and hopeless.