Friendly Neighborhood Druid

Haha OKAY.

*gasp*

majestic

Ann Nikolaeva

She narrowed her eyes at him, not truly believing that he meant her no harm. Hey, she didn’t survive in her Court for seven hundred years by being amenable. “Sure, fine.” She rocked back on her heels when she saw the dog. While Grim didn’t hate them, she wasn’t overly fond of them either. “Depends on your definition of living under a rock. If there are rumors, I may have heard your name but haven’t had a face to put said name to. So why don’t you be a dear and tell me your name.”

"Spunky aren't we?" he chuckled as he eyed her. Definately fae of some sort but what flavor of fae she was he coudn't decide yet. Though from Oberon's description of her scent he had an idea of what he could work with. "Names Atticus, Atticus O'Sullivan", he answered using the name he'd given himself. Only those importat enough knew his true name. "What brings you here, shouldn't you be in Tir na Nog?"

"What business do you have here?" The feline asked, unsure if he had tracked her down or not. It didn’t hurt to be more…alert these days. Granted, alert was such a nicer word than paranoid. "The other important question is: should I know you or have heard of you before?"

"Whoa now whoa" he said as he held his hands up showing he meant no harm. "Easy now was just walkin my dog didn't see ya here alright", he said as he nodded with his chin in the direction some feet away from them. As if on queue a large massive  grey blur bounded towards them pink tongue flapping to the side, tail wagging. Whoa Atticus she smells funny like not people funny like crazy cat lady funny, the dog said via his telepathic link to his owner. He took this as a sign and cast what he referred to as magic specs silently looking at her through the magical spectrum. "No, not that I know of. I mean well maybe just a tiny bit unless you've been livin under a rock for a few decades", he replied. 

     It was something she’d had a lot of time to think about, and, indeed, much of her mind had gone towards the decision. And, still, she wasn’t quite certain. “I am not a fighter,” she said after a moment’s pause. “I never have been, not like the others. I can take care of myself, of course.” Only a complete simpleton would think otherwise. “I do think that, in such a case, Odin’s reign should come to an end. However, I quite like this realm. Perhaps I would join you down here to protect it. You should not have to suffer because of the idoicy of my pantheon.”

"You know it won't end peacefully. But I find it oddly amusing that you'd take our side and not your husband's. You don't think he'll take offense to that?" he asked. He found this goddess oddly a bit refreshing, he'd never really found it a bit relaxing to simply talk. Of course he'd spoken to quite a few deities in his long life, he'd rather enjoyed his talks with the Christian Jesus, and found Manannán mac Lir's company pretty enjoyable as well. 

Stag in Winter (by Gavin MacRae)