Nameless Stranger

Little Casandra
A knowing spat upon, a burden born. Laughed at, all the while the walls crumble down

Tiny Oracle
A temple where you can lay your grief to rest in flames, flesh on fire at the inkling of touch

A witch in the woods
Hair knotted and lips chapped, she sees, she creates, almost nearly as much as she cackles. She doesn't say a damn word.

Hell bent beast bitch
Because it's simpler that way.

A fearless leader

A goddess

A whore

A queen

A channel

A mother

A broken bird

A crazy person

Absolutely no one

Chose your weapon. Choose your adventure. Choose as if you actually had a choice.

The wheel weaves as the wheel wills.