Confessions of a Chthonic Devotee. 1:4

In my dreaming between the yawning spaces, betwixt the waking world and the unseen I have gathered guides, familiar spirits, beings who bear pieces of my living soul saved from the grey deepening places. Elk is the first, born from the land, a native son given new purpose. His are the pronged antlers and ivy, youth and vitality, the young man seeking adventure with too much courage and not enough sense, the jack in the green. Though he may fall, he will rise again for his is the power of wild spaces and the voices of trees on the summer wind, bridled with unconquered adolescence. He is the Fool Arcana, unrestrained potential in man and the land.

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