Sleepy Fox Hollow the wonder that keeps the stars apart

"Dróttinn," Sif repeated. It was a word she knew rather well. Fen had not claimed the title for himself, but the others - when they'd leered at her, they'd named him her lord. It had been meant mockingly, but Sif had proudly shouldered the knowledge, given in insult or not. Back then, the idea of having a lord to take care of her had meant the world to young Sif. Today, it was the idea of these so-called 'sister-wives' that settled the girl's nerves. Her tail gave a tiny shiver. A lord was a good thing, and so were sisters - "But - hvað er kona?" she asked, not quite sure what to think of that word.

'Wife' had been taught to her, but it had been in conjunction with 'mother' and 'daughter' - and Sif wasn't quite sure what the different between the three might be. Didn't wives have children? Or was that a mother? And other terms were related to these. Brothers, husbands, sons, fathers. Where did those come in to play?

"Kona hafa eiginmann," she recalled. Or was it feður - fathers? Would Wardruna be her father, now? It didn't seem like a bad plan, especially if she was getting sisters out of the deal. She'd never had a father before, but Wardruna would surely know how all that worked. She didn't have to worry about it as long as he was willing to advise her. "Okay," she agreed with a cheery wag of her tail.

The dark girl pranced forward to nuzzle her lord, and then - just as quickly - began leading the way to weeping rock once more. It was only just ahead, so it didn't take long for them to break through the trees and catch sight of the wide, leaky rockface. "Grátandi Rokk," she said with a flourish, doing a happy little dance as she waited for his pronouncement.