Voleta stood in the circle.  She was High Priestess, and she bade the others tend to her.  So the others came, these woman, Priestesses all of Hecate.  They removed her long gown, they bathed her limbs in ash from a burnt offering, milk from one of the dark mare mothers who lived in their land, and finally washed her clean with water from a running stream, rubbing a fusion of oils into her pale skin.<br/><br/>They hung a silver chain around her neck with a Key so that it nestled between her breasts.  They brought forth a fresh black gown and fitted it to her, so that her shoulders remained bare, the arms loose, the waist high, then falling straight down to her ankles. They bound a Dagger to her waist, imbued with the Secrets.  On her other hip they bound a slim Torch, a small pouch of flint and stone close to it.<br/><br/>She was ready.<br/><br/>Voleta walked to where an ebony mare stood.  The dog, black as night sat, watching her approach.  Voleta wove her fingers through the mares mane and half leapt, pulling herself up to straddle the horse.  A small asp uncurled itself from the horses mane and wound up Voleta's arm so that it nestled in the crook of her neck and shoulder.<br/><br/>Voleta gently pulled at the mares mane, guiding the animal with her feet.  She went into the west, the dog following close behind.<br/><br/><br/><br/>