With a deadly gaze she spat venom
Iris aflame with coiled revenge
Cavern lit with golden spires
Billowed smoke from her hand

With tooth and claw wrapped around her neck
All things that crawled
She speaks to totems
Hidden in groves of Aconite

Deities unveiled
Boreal cloak sewn in stars
Torchbearer for spirits
They gather in her name

She makes the first cut
Resin drains from the root

Altar for the old ones
Soothsayer of the wild
Cut the roots let the sap dry
Kneel before the beasts

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