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February

"Easy Lan," Xanthesan counseled, rubbing the fox gently between the ears. "It'll come, just like it does every year." The two sat staring out the window at the greying forest around them. It had been cold the last few days, winter's final breaths blowing in at them. At least the frost was gone, Xanth thought.
Lan jumped down and paced back to the table, and then again to Xanth's feet and collapsed in a heap there, sighing. The young man patted the fox again roughly on the back and moved to the fireplace. Xanth took the kettle there and poured out the steaming tea into a large mug. There were little comforts for either of them these days, both either daydreaming of warmer days or better times. Lan almost never spoke anymore.
The scent of the herbs in the mug started to filter into the musty air of the room. The smell of the wood timbers and the fire, old smoke and dust, and peppermint. Xanth smiled softly to himself, moved back to the window and watched the sky lighten as the sun started to move over the horizon somewhere beyond the trees. "Perhaps," he said, looking down at Lan who opened one eye to look up at him, "it's time we gave this place a good cleansing."

Perhaps. I haven't actually performed a ritual since moving into the new place. I've had energy, but don't feel it around me. It's occurred to me to do a cleansing not only of myself, but the house as well, or at least my space. It's been a while since I've felt witchy.

posted by September @ 7:31 AM