Mable was right, they did not practice enough, and despite that, there would never be enough time for practice. "This is your journey, Mable Wood."
Her jokes about the sand nearly made him laugh. He had to be serious for the time being.
As she laid down upon the beach, half submerged in water, crossing from land to sea, he called upon the spirits. He crouched down next to her, removing his gloves. Krieg bit his left wrist, releasing a flow of vitae. He poured forth the blood in a semi circle upon the land.
"Demeter, this daughter has accepted the tribulation. I call upon The Thesmophoria. My pledge unto you is to sow a bountiful harvest in your honor. My request unto you is to walk beside her until she meets The Morrígan."
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Mable's eyes would close, drifting away into slumber.
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