Deepwood Weald Let these bones be the giver

She didn't look at him. Not even a glance.
Surely, the electric air of darkness that held it's breath of thunder would explode is she so did.
So she scanned the trees, wondering what they were saying to each other.
She hoped they were only the worst things.

"I am a servant to the Melonii bloodline, my topmost allegiance lays with Maegi, should I find her. But I serve Melonii's, I do what they will ask."
What the fuck was she getting herself into this time.
Swearing herself to those half-deranged, half-sadistic. Again.
Well, it's not like she didn't survive before but...Yakone. Her mate. 

Grey pelt stained through, yellow eyes looking up at her with the glaze of death. Summer, it was a time of happiness. Of joy. She carried his brood. His children.
The Whelping den, the druids helping her. Their wordless chanting seemed to scream a thousand voices yet there was not one. No voice, for if there were, it'd break the spell.
There, the three of the spawn, wriggling, writhing. Still covered in the amniotic sac.
None got to make their first sound before their blood was spilled.

Flicker drew her gaze to the man, pulling herself from the depths of her memory. She looked at his feet, listening. She'd pledge herself to this bloodline, if only it kept her from her self-destruction.