Blackfeather Woods Sleep is a little Death.

She took the beating, took each verbal blow, and still stood. Most of it did not make sense to her--and Potema's argument that the wolves of the Woods were "blind fools" fell on deaf ears--but the last sentiment, spat out, cut deepest.

Meldresi. It couldn't be true. The woman walked through her dreams; she was the Night Mother, the mother Maegi had never had. Had guided her though every step. If Meldresi had wanted her dead so badly, wouldn't she have struck her down by now?

A sob rose in her throat, but she choked it angrily back, instead glaring fiercely up at Potema. "I am worth protecting," she growled. "You don't know me. This is the first time you've ever even talked to me!"

She went on, rage clouding her every thought. "They know me, they see who I am," she argued, not knowing whether she was talking of her packmates or the gods. . .perhaps both. "Vaati, Miraak, Cic--"

She stopped, her eyes widening slightly. "Cicero," she breathed. "He said he was my father." Was that what this was about?!