'At the center of the grove an ancient weirwood brooded over a small pool where the waters were black and cold. "The heart tree," Ned called it. The weirwood's bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands. A face had been carved in the trunk of the great tree, its features long and melancholy, the deep-cut eyes red with dried sap and strangely watchful. They were old, those eyes; older than Winterfell itself. They had seen Brandon the Builder set the first stone, if the tales were true; they had watched the castle's granite walls rise around them. It was said that the children of the forest had carved the faces in the trees during the dawn centuries before the coming of the First Men across the narrow sea.'
...wow...wow...wow...
That's the weirwood. So like the Green Man. That pagan mystique and strength. Hinting of an aweful power implacable, unmoving, inhuman and all-encompassing. Wowza!
Now if you're like me and want to remystify your life a little bit, there's nothing like building a little weirwood of your own. If you're not fortunate enough to have your own forest to remodel, then you could find some inspiration from our dark comrades over at the Inn at the Crossroads.
Just look at this luscious and creepy white chocolate weirwood cake. Fangtastic!!!
Source: Inn at the Crossroads |
So thank you innkeepers for one more idea for a merry winter solstice or a sinister Black Christmas party.
Eat Goth. Play Goth. Live Goth, my pretties.
We could try our hand at it... and if you still have too many we could do this as well...
ReplyDeletehttp://innatthecrossroads.com/2011/11/09/spit-roasted-hare/