Lost Creek Hollow Corpse bride

she had only dragged the terrible secret a few seconds before resistance on the other end nearly caused her to lose her hold: whirling round with the reprehensibly soggy limb still in her mouth, indra came face-to-face with the imp at the end of the string. nunataq.

were there any words that would convey the inimitable disgust indra felt to think nunataq had eaten coelho? oh god -- is this what mothers thought of their sons, rapists and murderers and cannibals alike?

she shifted uncomfortably, trying not to feel the sodden meat that fell in her mouth; ash, dirt, stone -- think of anything but this.

nunataq held her end, defiance and rightful challenge in her dark-masked face. even in the pale light the moon offered, indra saw with a sinking heart the insistence in the apaata's gaze. dear xan and nameless wolf - your daughter is a cannibal.

but xan and reigi couldn't help indra: this was her cross to bear, as the self-appointed mother of this loveless child. indra could not bring herself to yank the dead from nunataq's grasp -- besides, she had a chilling thought if she did that the corpse would limply give way -- and then she would have multiple bits of coelho to carry back to her disturbed grave.

is this really what mothers deal with?

indra dropped the leg suddenly, meeting nunataq's gaze without flinching. she dreaded this moment possibly more than she had dreaded picking up coelho by the mouth -- but in her mind, it was possibly the only way. she hated herself for it - and would hate herself for days to come -- but what was she supposed to do with a child that was insensate and uncaring about words and customs?

she took one step towards nunataq, then another. first step, her posture was authoritative but not hostile.

second step, her posture emanated cold command.

third step, the lingering threat of violence.

her own eyes conveyed clearly her order: give up the carcass, or so god i will hurt you.