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Description
The night had been sleepless like so many nights before. When he got up with heavy bones and stepped onto the balcony, like he did every early morning, Fiachna was tilting his black head and looked at his master with his glowing eyes, questioning, sensing that something was in the air. Something they both couldn't quite understand. At least that was what Morrígan felt.
Today, he would return to the realm of men and do his duty to praise and punish, to sooth and haunt. Would walk amongst the dying and victors, would taste the flavor of blood in the smoke filled air. And today, he was more sure than ever before, he felt like he would not return home.
He had told mother about his presentiment and she had only cupped his cheek in her slender hand, her eyes, so similar to his own, diving deep into his soul. She sensed too that something was going to happen, and like them all, she knew that fate was something that had to be accepted. So had this touch, this simple gesture, been a goodbye to her oldest son.
Morrígan took Fiachna from his perch and pressed a kiss onto the raven's forehead.
"Be free, dear friend." he whispered and let the black feathered bird fly. "Be free for us both."
Fiachna let out a scream, like a last goodbye to the friend he had spent his whole life with, and Morrigan knew, this was a turning point.
Something was going to happen to him. Today.

Morrígan (later known as "Mo"), my God of War, son of the celtic deity of the same name © Edie Phoenix

rendered in Daz Studio 4.6 pro with 3delight
postworked for color adjustment and composition in Photoshop CS5

originally created for the LET THE GOD/GODDESS DESCEND UPON US contest (but not taking part in) at

Description
The night had been sleepless like so many nights before. When he got up with heavy bones and stepped onto the balcony, like he did every early morning, Fiachna was tilting his black head and looked at his master with his glowing eyes, questioning, sensing that something was in the air. Something they both couldn't quite understand. At least that was what Morrígan felt.
Today, he would return to the realm of men and do his duty to praise and punish, to sooth and haunt. Would walk amongst the dying and victors, would taste the flavor of blood in the smoke filled air. And today, he was more sure than ever before, he felt like he would not return home.
He had told mother about his presentiment and she had only cupped his cheek in her slender hand, her eyes, so similar to his own, diving deep into his soul. She sensed too that something was going to happen, and like them all, she knew that fate was something that had to be accepted. So had this touch, this simple gesture, been a goodbye to her oldest son.
Morrígan took Fiachna from his perch and pressed a kiss onto the raven's forehead.
"Be free, dear friend." he whispered and let the black feathered bird fly. "Be free for us both."
Fiachna let out a scream, like a last goodbye to the friend he had spent his whole life with, and Morrigan knew, this was a turning point.
Something was going to happen to him. Today.

Morrígan (later known as "Mo"), my God of War, son of the celtic deity of the same name © Edie Phoenix

rendered in Daz Studio 4.6 pro with 3delight
postworked for color adjustment and composition in Photoshop CS5

originally created for the LET THE GOD/GODDESS DESCEND UPON US contest (but not taking part in) at