There, there… little rabbit. There’s no reason to be wary. There’s no treason to be scared. Yes, the stench of the decaying wolf is haunting the place. But dead thing are not a threat. Not this time. Not anymore. You are not alone, little rabbit.
*** Là, là… petit lapin. Aucune raison d’être sur tes gardes. Aucune raison d’avoir peur. C’est vrai, l’odeur du loup pourissant hante ce lieu. Mais les choses mortes ne sont pas une menace. Pas cette fois. Plus jamais. Tu n’es plus seul, petit lapin.
As I was strolling the museum, we saw a little creature and what can I say ? I think we found our spirit animal. So now when in doubt, we’re gonna go visit the Spirits realm and ask for guidance. We’re gonna ask “What do we do now ?” And it gonna answer: “BWAAAAAAH”. And it’s gonna be alright.
Alors que nous déambulions dans le musée, nous avons croisé ce petit gars et… que dire de plus ? Je crois que nous avons trouvé notre guide spirituel. Dorénavant, quand le doute nous saisira, il nous suffira de rentrer en transe et de Lui demander conseil. Nous Lui demanderons “Que faire, Ô Guide spirituel ?” Et Il nous répondra : “BWAAAAAH”. Et tout sera ok.
Mouhammad reluctantly left the room of the Continental Hotel, letting Betty preparing the ritual with the various ornaments he fetched for her. That was a strange set of tools she asked him and he did his best to find them all. Buckler, arrows, arc, an ankh, a tiny sarcophagus… All this esoteric stuff was making him nervous, not that he feared the occult, but returning to the place he once worked was risky. He didn’t exactly leave a notice or any explanation of why he left his receptionist job, and “finding the love of his life” was not among accepted motive.
Betty told him not to look. She told him to return in a few hours. She said she will invoke the Spirit of Nets the Huntress to beg her for rest and protection.
He couldn’t resist and swiftly turned back. Using his pass on the door, he cautiously went back in the hotel room. He heard the words of Betty speaking softly some kind of prayer, in an unknown language. As he tried to hide behind the plants, he was overwhelmed by a sudden urge to sleep. He briefly saw a feline shadows, heard a strange metallic noise and fell to the ground unconscious. And now he’s here. They all are here.
There is no time here. No past. No future. Only an eternal present. The grass is everywhere, taller than them. A gentle and warm wind is blowing. They feel presences out of their sight around them, furtive noises in the bushes of predators, but no fear. They feel protected, relaxed. Mouhammad saw Betty, alongside her sister. Betty was pregnant, and all signs of worry has disappear from her face. She was expecting, radiant, a true goddess. He fell in love again and sit with her. Keeva was slowly stroking the dog. John was alert, but calm and peaceful.
There was no pain, no worries, no anxiety, not even the slightest discomfort. For the first time since ages, they could relax themselves and forget for a while the tasks at hands, the horrible fraternity of the black Pharaoh and the impending return of Nitocris.
This was bliss though Mouhammad. He could stay here for ever. Betty leaned on him and said:
– I want to hunt small critters. To run after they little tails. I want to sleep in the sun and to be petted. This is a dream, I know that. Not The Dreamlands, ‘though… This is the dream of a cat.
The Winter Spirits came for a last visit before leaving. They will be back next year with their snow and ice. Meanwhile, Martha allows them to enter and roam frelly the manor for a while. They will hunt all the dead yule ghosts and took them to the north. WHat will happen there, nobody knows…
Pencil Doodle on A6 sketchbook for Just a Maid, a story about Martha, maid in a strange house