#mirri

A little birthday gift for my friend @ceoofmetagala featuring its OC Foila Flora and his headmates Saki, Rua, Mirri, Willow, Button, Cotton and Pinky! Singles of the headmates below.

mirri (Finnish) vs kicia (Polish)

info and propawganda under the cut!

Day 3 - Primal

Mirri stirred within the grove she was helping to nurture into being, where flowering vines twined through her teal hair as though to bind her to the earth. At her whisper, they loosened, reluctant but yielding, slipping free like children from a mother’s hand. She rose, stretching into the soft green light of the Dream.

“You have rested your heart long enough, child.”

The voice was rough, ancient, and when she turned, Ursoc loomed above her. His breath gusted over her, nearly toppling her. Still, she smiled.

“Ah, but great Ursoc, this is the Dream. What else is one to do here but rest?”

“Do not sass me, spirit-healer.” His dark gaze was heavy as stone. “You hide from what you feel. You hide from Her. Tell me, what did you learn of dragons?”

Mirri lowered herself back to the earth, legs folded neatly beneath her. Her green eyes lifted to meet his. “That they are not everlasting,” she whispered. She had seen Ysera fall. She had seen corruption twist light into shadow. And she had begged, oh, how she had begged, for her spirit to return.

“But she did return,” Ursoc pressed. “Why are you here at my feet, and not at hers?”

Her breath caught. “Not all spirits can be called back,” she murmured. “I tried.”

He said nothing for a long time, his silence as deep as roots in stone. Then his words struck like claws. “Tyrande found her spirit. Are you jealous that she did what you could not?”

A startled laugh broke from her. “I have no illusions of being a hero. But we all mourned her. Should not our tears have been enough? Should they not have washed her clean of corruption? Let her rise again?”

His eyes narrowed, piercing her to her marrow. “Why then do you linger here? Why have you not gone to the new tree? To embrace your Mother’s return?”

The vines stirred at her touch, curling into her lap like children seeking solace. “So much remains untended,” she whispered. “Secrets in roots, places waiting for care. My grove grows so slowly…”

“Your grove?” Ursoc’s growl shook the air. “Do you own the place of worship, little one?”

The words stung. “No. I own nothing of the land. If anything, it owns me.”

The bear leaned closer, scenting her very soul. “Then hear me: you must make peace with your Mother. Your heart aches still for her. Go to the sacred place. Go to her.”

She closed her eyes. “I tried. But it felt wrong, with him.”

Ursoc’s rumble was low and wild. “Then tell me, what else did you learn of dragons?”

Her voice trembled. “That I could not love one.”

The great bear nosed gently at her hair, a warmth that shook her to her core. “Because you were always meant to love a bear.”

The words struck her like a pulse of earth. The grove fell away, dream folding into dream.

When she opened her eyes, she was not alone. She lay cradled in arms strong and warm as mountains, her head resting against a chest that rose and fell like the slow breath of the wild itself. Her bear, her love, had been called down from the mountains to love her. He stirred, pressing his nose into her hair as though scent alone could bind her to him.

“Mmm… did you rest well?” he murmured.

Mirri nestled closer, the lingering echo of Ursoc still thrumming in her chest. “Always,” she whispered, “in your arms.”

(I have not written anything for Mirri in too long and the prompt was exactly right for my recent thoughts of her.)