Blackfeather Woods blind to this impending fate

So, this place was a holy one. The forest - the altar. The more that Parvati listened the less afraid she felt, although she was still somewhat nervous of the concept that these wolves might worship a being of disease and sickness; it was their way, and she was not about to question it. It struck her as the ghost was speaking that Ramsay - who had bedded her in the darkness - had not told her anything about this faith. She opened her mouth to ask a question but was unable to ask it, for the woman had asked her own.

Parvati closed her mouth and licked her lips, thoughtful, considerate of what she had overheard of the men back home; it was rare for a woman to partake in the rituals, which was perhaps the reason why she had been so curious of the pale woman's offering. She cleared her throat lightly, swallowed the lump that wedged there, and tried to explain some aspect of her people's faith:

Wadj-wer is what the men called him. The representation of fecundity. We lived in a place where water was not abundant but when it came, the land was green and virile — so the men claimed this power as theirs, and my tribe has always followed such doctrine. She did not sound proud of this fact, but neither was she dismayed by it; it was simply the way of things.

The men would call for rain and it would come, bringing new life with it. They would hunt and fish and we would feast, and then celebrate — but she paused here, realizing she was speaking of something she had run from. They would prove themselves to women, take many wives, and show their love of the god by bedding them. She realized that she was embarrassed for her story-telling, and felt her face grow flush with emotion. But she looked to the woman to gauge a reaction, curious all the same.