Silver Creek come, ye sisters, come

emerson arrives late, and while she is a little piqued at her sister's tardiness, she knows that the sweet girl is never willfully disobedient. whatever had caused this lapse in punctuality must have been worthwhile. addison shakes her head, brushing off her sister's apology. it is fine, emmie, she says just as softly, the faintest of smiles coming to her mouth before she stands and launches into her diatribe.

most are compliant. she is glad to see the nods, the quiet firmness of their faces. lilah pipes up to voice her assent. she would have rather had the woman keep silent, but at least it is in support. she lets her frosty gaze linger upon the woman for one disapproving heartbeat before another, bigger fire is lit elsewhere. her ears fold back along her skull as cyclone begins to speak.

as the blackthorn yammers on, addison begins to walk toward her, slowly, one deliberate step after another. oh, this is out of line. grayson will not be happy to hear that his sister has been challenged. 'equal ground'--pah! were she anyone else, a newer member of the family, addison would have let her rebellion slide. but cyclone has been with them for long enough. she knows that without the odolfs, this utopia would not be possible. that she would be just another useless cunt in the world, instead of living out her full potential.

they should have left her behind when her husband abandoned her. something within the woman had made him depart; the odolfs should have trusted his judgment.

the clearing falls eerily silent, as if even the wind is holding its breath. the odolf witch stares for moment after long moment at cyclone, pale eyes like daggers into her skull. at a glacial pace, she lets her gaze drift to others in the group, assessing their faces. looking for cracks in facades. outward signs of approval for cyclone's impertinence. for now, only the blackthorn has risen to challenge.

you forget your place, addison says, finally, her voice echoing off the trees. our family was kind enough to take you in, give you a home. where would you be without us? she straightens, looking around at the women. my father brought his values to these lands once before, and we have come to do so again. without the odolfs, women waste their god-given potential. the gift of life. without us, you are nothing. never forget this.

she steps within spitting distance of cyclone, lifting her head and slowly inching her muzzle forward, so that she is nose to nose with her. you were nothing but a whore before you found us, addison whispers, fire dancing with the ice in her eyes. aimless, useless--a cunt for rent, rather than own. we may be equals, but never forget the debt you owe us, cyclone.

she licks her lips, salmon tongue lingering over each exposed tooth. just as i am the bringer of life, i am the bringer of death. sit down and trouble me no more, or i will end you. her voice is quiet, but not mildly so; it is, in fact, the murmur of god, the distant rolling thunder upon the horizon. it rings with the knowledge that for all she lacks in size, she makes up for it with pluck, and she is unafraid to stare down a challenge from another of her sex.

in truth, anyone viewing the scene before them might question the odolfs' view that women are the weaker gender. how could this be so, seeing the strength in cyclone's will, the fire in addison's rebuttal? even the wolves sitting meekly have dragons within them; they can unleash fury as well as any man.

but addison knows not to kid herself. it is a different kind of strength, one that allows women to take the essence of a man from him so that he may produce; one that has brought them through the bloody horror of childbirth for millennia. viewed structurally, they are inferior, but an investigation into nature finds that there is no strong or weak, there are only roles.

and while the odolf girl will kowtow to the will of her brothers, iliksis, all men, she will not stand for this show of intimidation from cyclone. before she has children, she will lead these women into their glorious future. they will serve their masters and be fruitful. she is less a commander and more a guide; still, her ambition does not allow her to back down easily. no challenge will go unanswered.

does anyone else have anything to share? addison asks, louder now, stepping back and looking at her new sisters. she pads close to emerson again and rests the tip of her tail against her flank, a silent show of solidarity. dear emmie. she knows her sister will never abandon her, not in the darkest night or the most terrifying storm.

speak now, or hold your tongue forever.