Otter Creek among the chestnut trees of Mamre

he came to her, and out of the edges of her vision (dripping though it was), she saw his yellowed figure. again her mind labelled this as the daystar, perhaps a minion of the lord, perhaps the lord incarnate. she did not question him as he observed, but was filled with life as soon as his tongue lashed at her forehead; hosannah was being chilled by the swift wind across her lithe body, but that one touch invigorated her. she would remember that - should she survive all of this, of course. the voice came again and gave her instruction, and hosannah's eyes closed, as if to commune with the lord. she heard that voice clearly, and a disjointed smile spread across her features; but the girl's teeth still danced in place.

when he pulled away from her, she followed stiffly after him; her body warming with activity until he gave pause, and she was made to blindly halt. the yellowed wolf was upon the ground, a bundle of parts that blurred together in her exhaustion. he bid she come closer, and so without hesitation hosannah did so; she dropped to her belly as if in supplication, and then crawled in to him, against his warmth.