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Sleepy Hollow 1x06 - âThe Sin Eaterâ
âApologies for the less than civil nature of your seizure.â

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- Iâm sorry⌠- Donât be sorry. Donât ever be sorry. Say that youâll marry me.
You know the wind is sky moving. It happens all the time.
Marie Howe, from âYou Think This Happened Only Once and Long Ago,â The Kingdom of Ordinary Time (via mortalpractice)

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My soul drank enough to know how thirsty it was.
Marie Howe, from âBefore the Fire,â The Kingdom of Ordinary Time (via mortalpractice)
Sometimes humans just die. And you cannot save them. Sometimes humans do not die, and you cannot save them.
Natalie Young, from âNotes on Earth Life,â published in Superstition Review (via mortalpractice)
The changeling let his focus slip.  His world blurred and sharpened; it was almost enough, sometimes, to See.  Today, though⌠Today, even walking through the True and the real couldnât stay the insidious draughts from places elsewhere.
Mossy felt unmoored, adrift. He knew logically that Faerie would not solve the ache, only force it to abate. Â He also knew that Faerie operated entirely unto its own logic. Â He yearned regardless of logic. Â Mossyâs feet pulled him into the dimming light of evening, darkness under the trees unraveled like a snagged scarf.
He walked, thinking of yarn, thread, wandering, beasts in labyrinths, until he plunged a foot into water up to his knee. Â Mossy blinked at the pool, removed his foot slowly from the murky water. Â Tiny spring duckweed and mint roots, water the color of old tea, flowed from his boot when he emptied it. Â This wouldnât be the first time he almost drowned while wandering. At least this was a pond and not the sea. Â Mossy felt the pull of the sea almost as strongly as he felt Faerieâs hook in his heart. He walked into the surf sometimes, staring transfixed at the Truth of the horizon until his hands were soft and his clothes were crusted in salt and his teeth chattered.
His situation was, in a word, bad.  Heâd been away from Faerie for years now.  The brief jaunt with Crysta hardly counted.  Sheâd purged him well enough afterwards that he could barely remember the scent of the meadow where the Hunt set them loose.  The sun in the other world that day tasted like dandelions in his memory, like a color so bright it was bitterâŚ.
âŚMossy looked around again. The sun in this world was lower in the sky than it had been when he first began to recallâŚ
Night.
The changeling slapped a biting insect off his neck. Â He was no longer by the pond. Â He still carried one boot. Â Mossy stopped walking and unlaced the other boot, tied the pair together to his belt. Pine needles stabbed at the soft flesh between his toes. Â Mossy crouched, balancing on the balls of his feet, and pressed the heels of his hands hard to his temples. Â He clawed up a handful of dirt and fallen leaves only to let the handful slip through his fingers.
A falling star shot overhead.
Mossy stood and followed it. Dust drifted from his hands. Â He walked until the land ended and dawn colored the tops of the trees.
Angus followed the blood from scuffed soles to its source. Â Bark pattern creased Mossyâs face from leaning against a tree. Â He turned to his god as Angus approached, eyes going wide before he hid them behind dirty fingers. Â Mud, crushed leaves, the dark stain of sap, and a little blood mottled his hands.
âWhich face do you show me?â Mossy croaked. Â Angus frowned. Â It wasnât like Mossy to hint even so obliquely at his Sight.
âBoth,â replied Angus, ever the poet. Â He slipped Mossyâs canteen from the changelingâs satchel. Â He knelt and pressed the cool container to Mossyâs fevered forehead.
âBoth,â Mossy echoed. âI ken itâs both, but-â Â He broke off coughing, the rasp of words too much for his parched throat. Â Angus opened the canteen and made Mossy finish half of it.
Mossy spoke again, but the words were too soft to hear. Â Angus leaned closer.
ââŚboth, but I ken not which is which.â
Evanna Lynch attends the unveiling of a sculpture, Dominicâs Bridge, Drogheada, 10 Jul. 2015 [x]
Maui Nui ʝAlauahio (Paroreomyza montana) - photo by Laura Keene
Endemic to Hawai'i.

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Lagertha: 4x16 âCrossingsâ
Lagertha | Vikings 4.18 [x]