more or less she knows she will remain by govinda, for the time being. still the same selfish, silly girl then, letting herself drift from man to man. what is that saying? third time's the charm. at least govinda has not made any designs on her yet, nor, truly, even asked of her to stay. no, hamartia made that decision on her own and she will stand by it. 

there is something alluring about govinda that makes her want to.

she has not thought to travel up the coast for some time, too afraid of what unbidden histories she might encounter. the farther from her own past she stays the better. today though some unknown force calls to her, urges her to travel; well, so long as she keeps hugging the shore, surely it will be fine. 

or so she thinks, but suddenly the lonely shore is filled by warm oak brown, all she can see. frozen suddenly, hamartia feels her legs tense. she could run; she could turn and make her way back as she came, back to the coconut groves and govinda and her pretty fantasy of starting over new. of course, how could she have forgotten, she knows sif went to the island, they'd spoken of it, the last brief encounter they had. 

hamaria can't bring herself to come closer nor can she bear to leave. swallowing air she breathes, "funny, i distinctly remember being the same height as you," each word on the verge of collapse.

maybe sif won't remember her at all.

sif is not the same as she once was; neither is hamartia. she looks healthy and grown. despite herself, the woman feels a pang of longing for having missed her ex sister-wife's development. perhaps she should have followed her from bearclaw valley all those months ago as she'd secretly desired, but held back for fear of suffocating the girl. how different could things have been? would she still wear her old name on her tongue, all blatant sacrilege and undeserving arrogance? sif's stricken look neatly coincides with hamartia's thoughts, and for a moment she thinks she must have spoken aloud, eyes widening imperceptibly. 

but she hasn't. instead it is some other thing, a smell she carries that sif does not like. a bad, bad wolf. her brows furrow, uncertain. "who is this bad wolf?" hamartia asks, voice low and gentle, but curious, too. there is, after all, a narrow list of options that sif could be referring too; she's only been in the company of one wolf as of late, however limitedly. but she will not out him by name, not yet, not until she hears the brushed umber girl speak. after all, hamartia herself could easily be called a bad, bad wolf.

as sif begins to speak, hamartia realizes her error: not in consenting to stay with govinda, for his crimes are no worse than her own, but in letting her sister-wife reveal too much. now she can collect all of govinda's secrets, and spare him none of her own, if she chooses. this is different than with phocion, who was good, and pure, and did not deserve the weight of hamartia's history. she does not understand every word that sif reveals, but the look on her face speaks volumes enough, and so she commits each foreign name and word to memory. a reserve, of sorts.

carefully she says, "i see," her expression somber. she does not want sif to think she is taking this lightly; she just does not know her sister-wife's own harmed soul. "your aralez is still alive, then? do you know what their relationship might have been?" for sif's attacked without reason sits strangely to hamartia's mind. perhaps he did. hamartia does not know him well enough to assess, nor has she decided if she is going to reveal her knowledge to him (though should she, she wants to know as much as she can).

her expression remains neutrally interested, eyes guarded. to give away her own lack of response to what sif clearly regards as a high crime would be to out herself as equally criminal, and, although foolish, part of her wishes to still be held in her good esteem. hamartia conjures a faintly aggrieved expression as sif finishes her explanation, murmuring "a shame, then." 

straightening her posture, she adds, "i appreciate your.. warning," her voice gentle. oh, but she does so want to keep sif's memory of her intact, and so she lies. "i will stay away from him," she says, "i did not know his history." the second is a truth, though of course knowing has only made her more intrigued to keep his company, understanding, finally, why she felt so drawn to him. they are kindred spirits in sin.