wastelander. Independent practicioner of Wiccan representation.

"It‘s warm in here. Would you mind if I take that off?"
"Don‘t you worry about tomorrow, dear."
"Oblivion is a blessing sometimes."
"It‘s the little things that kill."

salamAndra is definitely conscious of her sometimes provocative physical attraction and her charming personality. She likes to play with men and women who fall for her enchanting appearance – but more in a way as the cat likes playing with the mouse.

Her supposedly Wiccan powers provide grounds for rumours and spectulation. However, salamAndra prefers to stay on her own, living in her secret cabin deep in the woods. Only the GrandMæster is said to be in touch with her on a regular basis.

Maybe she is working to perfect her Wiccan skills before joining other wastelanders - or just tolerating their company? Or does she follow a different agenda, possibly all on her own?

Anyway, she is the kind of woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. How to describe salamAndra in just three words? Cute. But. Deadly.


{salamAndra Blog Entry 001}

Poor sh0t.
He was kinda cute. But weak.
Too weak to survive in wasteland.

However, I dare say he had really hat a sh0t during his last hours.
I met him in the woods, invited him to my place.

We soon got to it, and I must admit it was kinda nice.
He almost cried after he came.
And then things escalated quickly. You know how it goes.

He could really have given me his amulet by choice when I asked.
Maybe he would still be alive then.

Poor, stupid sh0t.

I need to find some new linen.
It‘s hard to get the blood out once it dried into the furs. But the amulet was worth it.

Sometimes it shows this funny purple glow.
Maybe it‘s enchanted?

My attention was drawn to this … collective … lately.
Some of those guys seem to have supernatural powers.
I wonder if it‘s different to fuck one of those witchers. Or witches.

I will find out.