Weather · Slavic · Perun, Mokosh, Stribog
A specific draw
Frozen card, same seed, same composition. Spinners and storm-throwers, Mokosh at the loom of weather, Perun chasing Veles through the clouds, Stribog's eight wind-grandchildren on the road.
Slavic · cloudy
Mokosh
earth-mother, spinner of fates
Women brought Mokosh her offerings in the plainest way, a handful of wool dropped into the well, a strand of flax, a thread let fall into the dark water. They called it mokrida, the wet gift, and it fed the goddess who keeps the earth moist and the wells from going dry. Nothing burned, nothing bled, just fiber given back to the water it would one day be washed in. Low soft cloud over the whole sky is the same economy overhead, moisture held and banked and paid out slow. Whatever small thing you are quietly feeding these days, keep feeding it, that is how her kind of wealth works.
A grey lidded sky on a decision day is Mokosh still spinning your options, do not cut the thread before she has drawn it out.