UA-52565790-16 Wild Hunt - Saga Kraft

Episode 15

full
Published on:

18th Nov 2020

Wild Hunt

Welcome to Saga Kraft: myths, fairytales, legends stories, comfort us, inspire us and heal us. Please join us. As we share stories, both old and new, more than anything, we are open to the story and it's unfolding at times. It may be one story told by one person at times it's the same story told through three different voices.

In the end, we go where the story takes us and we invite you to follow. I'm C a writer, artist, and storyteller. I'm Betsy, a medium and teacher of mystery traditions. I'm Gabriella, an artist and practitioner of folk magic. We are magical fairy godmothers in training today, we will be sharing stories about the wild hunt.

And all the magic and wildness and blessing that comes with those times. And the adventures, fires first lit for grandfathers. Feasts are still burning. They burned for a long time and these parts, not just for the one even into morning, but for the many nights that follow after. The days are short and the nights are long and getting longer yet heading into the deepest autumn, the autumn that strips the trees bare and freezes the ground solid and closed.

Preparing for winter, many souls and spirits wonder in this cold landscape and howling winds finding their way home through the thin veils of the dark season, finding their way towards their loved ones.

Those offerings and feasts are not for me. They're not for me. No feast can fill my hunger or quench my thirst. No, honey can sweeten the bitterness that burns me songs and prayers can be heard. Messages revealed between the living and the dead, a sacred time that living lean softly to hear the whispers and blessings of their loved ones.

What omens, what was done? What do they bring for the coming year? The songs they sing or not? For me, they're not for me. And no one wants to hear my cries, my house or my rage. I am the keeper of the place where the unwanted go, the banished, the wicked and the wild here they come. And I contain them. Keep them still keep them quiet and far away from the living and from the fires until this time comes when the earth stirs and a wins world.

And I can no longer keep from howling, a thousand cries and the cold wind blows from all sides. There's nowhere to run, no place to hide. This wind might find me after all, take me over, push me further out. I will be free at last free at last. But I will not go into the night. I have my rage. I have my thousand cries.

I will not be banished. I must keep guard. Ah, here they come. Hundreds of writers and to beasts and ghouls by ground and by air, they ride so many faces, flared, nostrils, and fierce eyes, tumbling and crying like one being onward and forward the ride unstoppable on confined. Oh, how wonderful it would be to ride with them to whirl and fly, to be free, to be undone.

But I cannot, I cannot ride. I must remain. I must guard. I have my rage. I have my thousand cries. It is my duty. And Diane bound, the black writer arrives. I meet his eyes. Your time has come guardian. You must ride. But I cannot for, I am bound and I hold a thousand cries. Give me your cries. He demands. I give him one and onward.

He rides the red rider arrives. I meet his eyes. Your time has come guardian. You must ride. I still cannot fry him bound. And with the rage of a thousand, I, how give me a rage. He demands. I give him one. And onward. He rides the white writer arrives. I dare not meet his eyes. He cannot see me. I must hide, but he can see all and there's nowhere to go, no place to hide.

And I still hold the thousand cries inside. I've come for you, guardian. Your time is now another rider comes to take your place to keep the edge, to keep the banished and the wicked and the wild. I cannot leave. I cannot ride. I have a thousand howling voices inside a thousand rages and a thousand cries.

Those are not yours. Those are no mine. I have come for them. So you can ride your time has come white writer go forth and ride. It is my turn to guard the land at this time. And so I ride. I take the thousand house with me and the cries I dissolve with the wind as do the cries and the rage. And we howl with such vigor, such force and joy that nobody will be left behind.

Noah will wander. No one will be bound free at last free. At last we are undone. We ride. I love that. That was so powerful. Thank you. It was fun to write. I loved that. What felt to me like dichotomous nature, the first lack, and then the, the engagement rather belonging in a totally different way. It's nature was a big part of it, nature and time.

And that everything belongs in the right order, even if it's part of disorder and chaos.

For those spirits and those souls. Yes. Until the new ones start coming. New elements that have been cast aside are sent off to that place far, far away, wherever that may be. I loved all the descriptions. I always love all your descriptions. Thank you for me. The dedication and it too. I mean, just the acceptance of what was.

And the adherence to some kind of code or some kind of an agreement and the necessity of having beings, people of some sort who will do those jobs, who will do that intense work and a lovely, very vigorous portrayal of the hunt itself too. That's great. They like the release, not just of those who are fully gone, but the idea that parts of ourselves could be offered up and can be released with that as well.

And the demonstration of how to let go and the reassurance that when we let go of something, it is in fact carried on and repurposed. And it makes me think too, of what happens when people are dying, that the things that they've been carrying often pass on to the living, and to know that there's some recourse for those who've inherited these kinds of rages or emotions or feelings.

And to know that they too can move on and be taken at certain times of the year, intense and uplifting. Thank you both for listening and having such beautiful things to say, I'm quite fond of some of these words in here. I might even incorporate them into something else because I do feel like the words came from this code and from this place of lung and wanting to be released.

And also knowing that once they've come to the edge, they're the only ones holding it back. And the trust that whatever's after can sustain it can sustain the edge when they're the last one standing. And that was the reason why they're still standing. And I like that when this voice first started coming, they really were showing me the warm places and the acceptable places that people gather or create for their ancestors and how some are simply not welcome for very good reason, because they're part of a landscape that upholds the bigger structure of it all.

And there are forces wild and free that really understand those situations. And those feelings and the illnesses and the things that must be kept at Bay to contain a balance. So I appreciate how that voice came through with the warmth and with the wilderness of the cold. Thank you. Okay. Thank you. And now C has a story.

On all hallows' Eve at midnight, their time 7:00 PM mine. The sound of distant hooves echoes through the air with a company when the lost dog sniffs his way from tree to tree smelling the stories of a million other dogs before him, the wind begins to hell low and mournful. At first, then whipping up into a high pitch scream has the worst per where group of sense.

What does one call a group of courses of flock heard elite bizarre for practical purposes, they're done eating. So one would think that satisfied would be inappropriate term it there anything, but I will call them the one thing. As soon as they land, they splinter off into subgroups, grounding the forest.

Is it hurting? It's lack of occupants. Filling the air with their Hells and screams the pounding of Koons, the whipping of brands, their leader, a tall man and a taller hat gestures in the air. As of conducting the cacophony, he gallops between the foreboding trees are full-speed unafraid wielding a spear wildly.

And with abandon in doubt, he remembers what it is or who he is then again, why would he need to, he's only playing his part. He is what we have made him just as way or what he has made us. Well, memory is selective. Anyway, it's just about who gets to select in the wee hours of the morning. They happen upon a man tucked into this victim sleeping bag and bivy sack the tall man knobs in three of the wanting, surround to the camper and begin to chant.

He goes on sleeping as a heavy rider within strands and long thinning hair, hoist the camper still cuddled into his waterproof cocoon over his shoulder before mounting his horse. Again, the two Gallup chaotically into the night. So only one of them knows it as they approach the waterfall their leader makes.

But I can only describe as a sound that isn't so much curd as experienced. It rips through the worlds, creating a jagged tear in the fabric of understanding the self appeals behind them, leaving a slight energetics in tag it's equally as appealing. They arrive at the Elvin court and after a few faint niceties present the snoring bundle to the King, his smiles, then gestures to them to dump it into the corner.

Circular tables that lie in the hall are covered with food steaming, loaves of bread and cauldrons and soup yams and soy juries have as well as those marginally burnt sausage, there was like so much, there are desert and crystal carrots of Mead ale and wine. In addition to a stunning variety of Elvin alcohols in a rainbow of colors.

All sit down to enjoy the mail. Enjoy being aware of that is utterly misleading. So they have no need of physical substance. So wanting sucked down, enormous quantities of food and drinks so quickly. I can't imagine they actually taste them. And with no sign of enjoyment whatsoever, they're not done eating.

Although their bodies no longer require that when they finished what I can retrieve of serving stones. They began licking the platters in a desperate fever, the King taps on his crystal glass with the end of the sport to call attention as the final drops is squeezed from the crafts and the squat is of the wanting licks, the final dollop of yam from the central cauldron tonight's entertainment.

The King announces gesturing to the unconscious lump of human in the corner. Three Elvis hoist him upright and pry him from his bivy sack was surprising. Grace. To hold him upright, whose head drooping forward and to the left, the third, a younger elephant exquisite dress. First fingerprints then search it's him handing the driver's license to the King who reigns the name and address John Dickinson core 28 East pine allowed Mullins later, the younger L pants that came to iPads when displaying a personal file had one showing a social media page.

The King snorts, this mouse suddenly on a half smile. Good job folks. He comments, it looks like this. One's told his fiance. He's spending time alone in the woods and called in sick at work sound eruption the room as the snicker and the wanting does a full round of high fives. Everyone in hand pulls out a camera except for the younger ELLs.

So momentarily hugs the camper then slowly shift shifts into his form, like wax melting and solidifying again. That's the wave of the King's hand, the disco ball descends from the ceiling and music clubs, the room, the doppelganger leaves a Congo line as the other snap pictures next to you, does a strip tease draping the band's plaid flannel over his sprightly, feminine L looking her cheek, other ships shift into animal form and pose literally as often as not while still more guests, documentary dimensions.

The party ratios for hours until daylight threatens to shatter the night and the elephant King rings his glass. Once again, the group slowly quiet, another successfully evening, he announces tomorrow. The tall later of the one-time suggest you bring the entertainment. We'll provide the food. The Elvin King announces is the wanting head off to return the camper to the woods while his younger elf, a friend uploads all the images in social media account.

That's amazing. What a story you painted with your words. Thank you. I love the feast. I really felt like I was there with all of your descriptions of it and the food and the Mead. And I love how mischievous everybody is and so funny. And there's that element of not feeling quite safe, ever. Which I think is an important part of these kinds of adventures.

And really this time, this time of the year, and being with these magical beings, even if they blend in somehow into present time, there's that element of the uncanny and the unknown and that anything could happen and we could be snatched away at any moment. Right. And forever changed. And I think we've lost so much lore about it, that people perhaps at this time of year, really put themselves at risk as well.

Which might not have happened in previous times where people were aware of what the potential dangers might be. And I liked the collaboration between the different kinds of beings as well, and sort of the routine that they've worked out together. Otherworldly networking

and staying on top of what's happening in the mortal world, as well as incorporating it to their own delight. What was it like to spend time with this story? I actually very much enjoyed it. I really enjoyed all of them. I guess to me it rings very true that sometimes the world can be a combination of sort of not malicious, but not safe.

Either that area of gray, where you're like, well, that's not ideal and it is kind of entertaining, but, uh, you can do it that, yeah. All right. Watch your back, I guess. Yeah. Did you have a favorite. I know you love Dell of the people in it. Did you feel especially close to one or another? The two liters? Yeah.

Well, and I guess the camper I really felt for the camper. It's true. I was quite fond of them as well.

It was delightful. Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you.

Test's worried that Hilder, the goblin cat was not having an easy time with her newly transmogrified shape gone where her extra long legs now shortened by several inches. She had five toes on each pod rather than seven, and she no longer had the head to tail big line of extra stiffer along her spine.

She didn't look completely normal, but a lot of cats have that distinction. She seemed to be in a little bit of shock after the change, which great aunt hold us side was entirely natural. Give known yourself one way. And now you aren't that anymore. That's what it would feel like her great aunt had taken her by the hand, when she'd finished with her work and said, we'll take Hilder a little time to get used to this.

She may be a little clumsy, whatever she does. Don't laugh. Test promised her solidly that she wouldn't laugh, but it turned out to be harder than she thought because Hilda couldn't judge distances in her new configuration, lurching and tumbling around, which hurt her dignity more than her body. Over a little time, Hilder, the cat regained her poise and her confidence.

Tessa's mother agreed. Tessa's familiar, looked as much like a normal cat as possible under the circumstances of coming from the goblin world. And now seemed in control of her body. One fine day. It was decided that tests and Hilder could go outside together on a day that was cold and clear tests took Hilder outside for the first time.

She shot through the open door and took a great leap into the pile of leaves in the front yard test, followed and jumped into the leaves herself, twirling, happily in the wrestling red leaves. Feeling delight and awakening. Tendrils of power. She twirled first sunwise and then widdershins she did tensions.

She hadn't even been aware of reeled off of her. And she felt pure happiness. Hilter seemed to be in a similar mood and she left and gambled and generally acted like a kitten. Tess was glad she could play. She thought Hilder had been trying awfully hard to be good. And while it came naturally to tests, it seemed to take a real effort for him filter test his mother, busy in the kitchen, checked on them from time to time and seem to be satisfied by what she saw for.

She left them to it. A little wind had sprung up and move through the last of the hanging leaves on the nearest tree. A fall of autumn colored leaves snowed down on them. The little wind riffled through the pile of leaves, lifting some and flattening others, a small twister of dry leaves formed and spiraled high heels are pounced on the Juul red spiral of leaves, which lifted up off the ground above her, frustrating, her intent, a twist formed again, dancing closer to the cat and then pulling away.

The cat slunked down and stocked at her eyes. Gleaming intently, the wind twisted out of reach justice, Hilder pounced again, and missed tail twitching. Hilda became even more focused and as the wind teasing the approached Hilder pounds to the left of it, neatly landing on it, no in it as the wind twisted that direction.

Tufts saw Hilder's mouth stretched wide wider than it should be able to. And then Hilda growled and grabbed the wind with her teeth. The wind struggled furiously, but he'll just grip on. It was strong with a big gulp. She swallowed it whole, the spiraling swirl of red leaves suspended in the air, dropped abruptly to the ground.

Hilder dropped to her belly. The wind continued to struggle inside of her Hilder kept your teeth together. Hissing and arching as the wind tried to fling her from side to side. Oh, no test cried. What have you done? Tests ran her aid as Hilder scooted along the ground, moving forward and hunching up every few feet, grabbing the cat who thrashed furiously tests and treated her.

Let go of it.

She rocked from side to side as the furious wind tried to force its way out of her. When it bashed her into a chair like at the kitchen table, a little bit of the wind escaped, flowing her mother's piled papers off the table in a small gun. What on earth visit her mother asked watching intently. She swallowed a wind and she won't let it go.

What can we do old or her mother's sudden dealing by the lurching cat. Her mother was struggling with laughter and vexation. She put her hands on either side of Hilder's back, trying to feel what was happening inside the cat. As she moved her hands from her back towards her belly, the cat hissed, as well as she could through her teeth.

It was both awarding his and to help me kind of hiss the wind, which I've been rocking, killed her side to side immediately pressed for advantage changed direction and pummeling her internally from head to tail and back. Surprising Hilder who squeaked a little wind erupted from her mouth smelling of leaves on the far North and from her rear end, releasing a fart only a distressed goblin cat could make, Oh my gosh, that's terrible.

So that her mother, as Hilda catapulted out of her arms, leaving her in a noxious cloud test, tried not to giggle call auntie Holda. She'll know what to do test. As mother said, waving her arms. Test called her praying. She would be there to answer Hilda. Didn't bother saying hello. And she picked up merely saying, what did she do?

Oh, auntie she swallowed a wind surprise silence. And then cackling. Laughter auntie you told me not to laugh at her. I didn't say I couldn't laugh. Her great aunt said wiping streaming tears from her face. Where there apron, how did it happen? We were playing in the leaves and a little wind twister appeared Hilter pounced and swallowed it.

It's trying to get out of her, but she won't let it, let me talk to your mother Sibyl. Can you tell me which direction the wind is from? I think it's a North wind. It's very strong. Hold a, spoke with her for several more minutes. Civil listened intently. I think I understand holder I'll call you back after I try it.

What is it, mother? What can we do? Sitting on the floor tests was holding Hilder against her lap who was growing steadily. She won't let it go hold a set. It's better not to let it go while she's inside. The wind will be pretty mad. Test imagined what that could look like in the cheerful, but organized kitchen, full of dried herbs, shiny bottles, baskets, and potions.

Her mother went to the garden shed in the backyard, returning with scissors and a basket with balls of thick garden twine, and several colors. She swiftly cut three equal lengths of twine nodding. One end rapidly braiding the colored twine into a thick Bray, black, the winds bright red for the winds might the North where you are from is white bite.

Might white bite might white. She chanted. I'm making a big loop with it. She tied a circle holding it open wide. Now pass Hills or through the loop as a wide eyed, Tess obeyed civil immediately closed the circle, pulling the braid at ends until the first knot in the braided cord appear. She tied another loop.

Do it again, tests as test pass Hilder through the second time civil drew, the circle closed into a second. Not Hilder's agitating. Rocking began to subside. Once more that's it said civil Hilda was passed through the third loop and the ends were drawn closed into the third, not Hilda relaxed. So suddenly she went entirely limp.

I heard the wind Tessa asked it's still in her butt bound. What do we do now? We wait, hold a son to put Hilda in her, carry crate and let her rest. We keep the cord with her, or the wind will struggle in fear. It must be so frightened said tenderhearted tests, yes. Or mad, or both the afternoon wore on in the crate with the braided cord binding, the wind Hilder could open her mouth and was able to drink a little and wine.

Occasionally she kept herself coiled in a ball with a bit of a wild look in her eye. Is she going to be okay. Tess asked her mother, what do you think is taking hold us so long? Holda does things right? Tests. She'll come up with a way for this to resolve without Hilder getting hurt or kitchen destroyed.

We want it to be the right action. Or we could face consequences from the wind for some time to come. I hadn't thought about that test said I'm so sorry. How could, you know, she'd do something like that. It's not your fault. It's not hers, really just a cat's nature to pounds. If we could convince the wind to see it that way, it was just a small wind.

It won't be forever tests and civil and looked at each other. Hold a carried a basket of goodies, including a cake, some red apples, and a small jar of meat out into her back garden. She went beyond the Nique kitchen garden through the medicinal herbs and into the far back where she approached a simple labyrinth, laid out with stones from the beach, the mountain top the river bed dug from deep in the garden and a few lava rocks.

She's saying as she walked slowly into the labyrinth heading towards its center. She sang to the old ladies of the North three wise beings. She sang about the girl tests, a goblin cat, transmogrified to look like a normal cat named for an Elvin queen, but with powers, unlike a normal cat and its capture of the little North wind, she sang about the knots, holding the wind in check and how all of them, she, civil and Tess wanted to be able to release the wind with no hard feelings she sang for a while.

Several winds came in, answer to her song, pulling out her Corona of braids on her head and gusting around her, standing in the center of the labyrinth. She acknowledged the winds and asked them to send help. One wind pushed her a little and she stood her ground to it. Singing calmly that it was an accident they could all learn from the wind pulled back, joined the others, circled around her, and then all of them went flying off to the North.

Hold a Raptor shawl more tightly around her standing peacefully and thankfully, and made her way out of the labyrinth. When an empty basket SciVal got off the phone and said to Tess who was waiting a little inpatient lead to hear what hold his advice was. We wait now hold a, sent a message to the North.

Keep your eyes and ears open at the moment will come when you'll know exactly what to do. Me, her mother nodded. Oh, how long do you think we have to wait? As long as it takes set her mother? That's what she always says. Test thought glumly. I know. Just be ready after a quiet dinner, simple suggested that tests take Hilder and the wind to get a little sleep.

She said, she'd wait to hear from Holden, but let's have snow. As soon as she heard anything. Test talk quietly to Hilder, letting her know everything would be all right. Hilder wine to previously, eventually hold a called and let civil know what would likely be happening. There'll be a price. Hold us said, flatly.

I understand Sibel thanked her and sat silently for a few moments before squaring her shoulders resolutely. She thought about the best way to proceed and set about making plans. She looked in on Tufts and Hilder and left them sleeping thinking was likely right. Be a long night and rest was the perfect way to prepare civil big pile of coats, mittens hats, and shawls, and put a thermos of hot chocolate and some shortbread and clocked bag and began her weight.

The winds began to pick up as the evening hours went by, the winds became stronger until there was a hollowing noise around the corner of the house. She noticed that the winds were shifting around coming from more than one direction. She could feel her heart beginning to hammer a little as window shutters banged against the house shutters that had been secured, but were loose.

Nonetheless mother, she heard test call has hold a called. She has, she said to be ready tonight. Put on your warmest clothes. Tufts hurry to comply. Tucking, an extra warm shawl into the cat carrier for Hilder. Come down here when you're ready, bring Hilder with you. They didn't have long to wait in the warm kitchen by the woodstove on the stroke of midnight, the French doors at the back of the kitchen, the loo open wind and leaves blew in an irritable sounding deep mil voice cried out.

Where is it? Where's my wind. Simple thrust, a pile of coats and hats and tests saying quickly, put these on her coat was already on her cloth bag over his shoulder. And a steely look was in her eye. She went out of the doors to confront the voice test carrying Hilder in her case, braided cord included was right behind a very strange scene.

Met their eyes. An eight legged horse piling its front four legs while hovering in the air was held in place by a stern looking one eyed man dressed in a cloak with furs, holding a spear and wearing a spiky looking metal. Crown. Yeah, I'd done. Irritably. Have you got it? Have you got my wind simple stiffened her back and replied equally?

Imperiously we do have your wind all father. Well, give it here. Give me the cat. He reached toward them while pulling a big knife out of a sheath, strapped to the saddle where late as it is, he gestured behind him women on horseback warriors on giant wolves, a pack of huge hounds and even stranger folk are ranged behind him.

There was a sense of urgency of excitement. The winds held louder and clouds scattered across a moon that was looking red and ominous Moonlight, and some other spectral light glinted on the brandish blade. We ride with you all father, you ride for death. We ride for life touch, not the cat civil stared defiantly.

At the one I'd got touch, not the cat cried tests. Echoing her mother with a cat carrier held behind her a wild haired woman pulled forward, driving a cart drawn by two immense cats. Her eyes laughed the mortals while her voice had calmly. I claimed them Odin and the cat he turned and I had her with a disfavor.

You would do wouldn't. You there'll be a price. They've slowed down my hunt stolen. My wind's favorite child come said the women to civil come child, bring the cat. I know what to do. Of course there'll be a price. I look forward to negotiating that with you. As tests and civil passed Wehrli by the cranky God on their way to the cart.

He said, wait, they halted. As he touched his finger to their throats, a triskelion flamed eerie blue light on the soft skins of their neck. So you don't forget Freya, YouTube cat, the interior of the cat carrier, flame glue of both the cat and the little North wind. How old would fury. Odin last shortly turned his horse and spurted into the sky.

We ride, he bellowed hold tight and ride for life said Freya flicking the reins of the cart, civil and tests at each other for life or our lives. As tests both left the lady as the wild hunt flew into the sky, sometimes slipping down towards the earth, sometimes flying higher. Some of the writers called out, bring out your dead.

The shades people have animals, plants, and others all were lifted, teased out and scooped up as the mountain riders gathered up. As many as they could, Carrie, uh, being icy and majestic approach the flying cart, it was massive and coldly angry. Where's my sun came a voice that carried with it. An Arctic chill.

Deepen hooded eyes looked out from a maelstrom of clouds and wind. We have him here. So the wild haired lady calmly hold these rings, civil dear tests, pull out the cat and the cord, the wind lunge towards the cat test held on as the wind tried to rest the cat from her grip, temper temper he's safe lady Freya untied the first not black, red, white.

Chin tied the second night bite might white unbind unwind be kind Shan tied. The third night is a little wind revived inside the cat and struggled for freedom. The North wind tried to pull the cat away from tests she held on with all her will and power. So did Hilda refusing to let the little wind go apparent when raged furiously.

Odin appearing alongside reached across the card and poked Hilder in the stomach with a long, strong bony finger and said, give me my wind. Hilda refused, grinding her teeth against the onslaught from within pocket up cat. He poked her again, killed her human convulsively and the wind expelled from her objecting out into the sky immediately surrounded and born off by its parents.

Stubborn cat. So the one I'd got was just a tinge of admiration. I may have a use for you yet. You wrote off as the newly renewed winds blew ever more fiercely, pray a smile to herself and toss civil, a bag of what appeared to be glittery dust. If we ride for life, we better get busy. The two of you start scattering.

This dust, as we fly, we read and we sow, we reap and we sow. That was the clearest thing tests remembered until the fervor of the hunt began to die down. She would never forget the images of the wild hunt, the passionate flight of the strange beings, nor the feeling of death, passing through a veil and life being sewn.

A new her next clear memory was of her mother, like holder equal to anything pulling out her bag and offering Freya hot chocolate and homemade shortbread. As they sipped and lunch together, the one eyed God came by again on his glowing horse, pray a Testament biscuit and said, I know, I know there'll be a reckoning.

I look forward to it to tests and symbols. She said, don't worry. I have him well in hand Odin on his warriors flew off the wild hunt dispersing while the vaguely Swan looking lady riders. Accompanied Freya as she returned them to their home a bit before Dawn's first light, she kissed them both and padded the grumpy looking cat on the head, tipping her head up to see the triskelion branded on the cat's neck.

After letting them off in the back porch. She saluted them Gaily. I'll be seeing you and launched into the sky into the first light of Dawn. I want out Coco and the skin.

Then you should. I want to write for life. I want to write for life as death passes by. That was fabulous. Betsy. That was really so many beautiful layers. And even though it was happening in present time or felt like present time, it was an ancient story made in you with old powers integrated into. A really practical solution to possibly big problem.

Very big problem. I like the getting to know civil a bit more to test his mother. I love that whole family so much. I love how different they are and how many different aspects they bring in their gifts. The different gifts they carry. I love how sweet test is. And how often that gets her into trouble, because she's so innocent, but also saves her in the same way.

Right, right. What was it like for you to be with them? I know you've been with them before, but in this story with Freya, well, to be honest, I had the glimpse of Hilder, the goblin cats swallowing, the wind. Weeks before it came time to do the wild hunt. So I knew that was coming up, but I didn't know how it was going to be involved.

So once I started riding us and the rest of the story came through, it was as fun to get to know, hold a bit more and her type of magic if you will, but also to be yeah, on the hunt with them. As you said, with Odin and Freya, And I'm just curious to see what happens with those brands on their neck, to the sacred markings.

And I do look forward to seeing Freya managing Odin a bit more as well. Yes. That will be its own story or possibly many stories that would all unfold from that. I love that concept and the energy of the ally and that there will always be someone who comes for us if we ask for help. And if we're willing to unravel or undo that a wrong necessarily, but a situation that we're in calling on the right people at the right time and standing with them.

And I love the matched energetics of Freya to the family and how she's sort of taken them as her own and this way possibly because they have been her own already. But in that moment, there's such a seal of recognition. I love that. I was also for myself struck by something simple as a cat swallowing a wind, but to also realize that.

When it comes to those uncanny things in nature, the simplest thing can turn into a situation where there are obligations or prices to be paid. And the acceptance of that, I think I developed appreciation for Tessa's mother for civil. I didn't even know what her name was till this story, but. She would do what she had to do on behalf of her child and face it all straight up.

I love the fact that she didn't take over and incorporated or had included tests and the unwinding of it and saw it as an initiation for her daughter. A very important one. I love the baldness of everyone involved. Like everyone was just willing to show up and be themselves and argue for what they felt was right.

Lovely world. It would be true. Certainly a world to aspire, to be in and to see ourselves in. Yeah. The only way to create that world would be to do it well, and I love how. With the wild hunt being one of those occurrences or one of those, I do look at the wild hunt as connected to nature in a big way, and just a natural laws and how sometimes we simply step into something like that unknowingly.

But when we realize what it is, or even if we're not a hundred percent sure what it is, but when we get a sense of the urgency of that time, of the moment and of all the players in it, How our participation in it will change us and how we will change that occurrence in itself by showing up authentically.

And I think that we can be respected if we end up in a situation like that and really show up. I, for myself also found it interesting, the contrast of the rules that Odin and Freya played to. And. It felt so strongly that Odin had. I mean, he was a God of wins, I think, you know, in some of the early iterations.

And so his connection to the wind felt very powerful in this, but also it felt as though, as the leader of the wild hunt, everything is kind of running through him and he's holding all of that. And that situation, you know, it's like just that. Pulling out the knife, ready to cut the wind out of the cat just for expedience sake.

But that sense of he's so involved in with Fred, not in that place, she had more maneuverability than he did in a certain kind of way, too. And because of that could intervene perhaps calmly and daily. Yes. Often the calm person has a lot more ability in a moment. Yeah, I think that's so true. Isn't it? But it is important for the person who's holding back.

We're about to release the massive energies that have been building for a cycle or for a time, their role is to release the binds, release the winds, and that nothing can be in their path, but that's the energy of the wild hunt, right? So they cannot be calm. That's not possible. And in that role cannot be calm.

He is the wind. He's the writer. And no one can be left behind. Yeah. That's beautiful. I love how it all came together. Yeah, it was fantastic and beautiful story. Thank you. It was fun. It was fun to be with it. I feel like I've gotten a lot out of this week. Lots of insight into how to release them and show up in a better way, which I think is exactly what I'm working on.

So perfect for me. I. I'm in a place where I really have a lot of love for the unwanted, for the Castaway. I always have that, the moments with those, those beings simply because I want to believe that everybody finds their way. And I do believe that, and I have a lot of appreciations for the energies that show up for them that can liberate them fully and support them and everything in between.

Just the balance of cycles and time and places. Yeah. I love what both of you have just said. And I think as well for me, I think. I have appreciation for the wild hunt and other forces of nature like that for what they offer us. And I think as we know about them, as we learn about things like that, we can work with those forces of nature and help to empower them.

And it strikes me that, especially in this kind of stressful time, that globally we've been experiencing as humans. There are all kinds of leftover emotions and energies and people being drawn into good versions of themselves, less than good versions of themselves and a kind of a toxic debris of energy.

That could just linger around unless wins and forces. Like the wild hunt came, not just for the dead, but for the, for the old things that are over for, in some ways, even the way that life was before pandemic, it's not the same anymore. And we don't cling to it. If we let go and see what gets sown now, you know, with that glittering dust that comes for those who ride for life, what's possible now.

After the clearing away of what's over and dead and needs to move. Um, I'll be thinking about that. And one of my favorite things to do this time of year is to write what I want to release on dry leaves and put them out for the winds to take and really put thought to it. So I encourage anyone who has any leaves around them at this time to do that and know that the winds are our friends in those ways.

I love that. I love that too. Thank you for that. Thank you both so much for this evening of story, really, really loved it. And profound words of wisdom. Thank you and beautiful imagery. I really think both of you are such wonderful storytellers. Thank you. Thank you for listening

And special thanks to the fantastic Zoe Magik for her phenomenal editing skills.

Show artwork for Saga Kraft

About the Podcast

Saga Kraft
Myths, stories, and how to use them.
Welcome to Saga Kraft.

Myths, fairy tales, legends: Stories comfort us, inspire us, and heal us. Please join us as we share stories, both old and new.

More than anything, we are open to the story and its unfolding. At times, it may be one story told by one person. At times, it’s the same story told through three different voices. In the end, we go were the story takes us . . . and we invite you to follow.

We are:
Sea, a writer artist and storyteller.
Betsy, a medium and teacher of mystery traditions.
Gabriela, an artist and practitioner of folk magic.
We’re magical fairy godmothers in training.

May our stories meet yours.