Otter Creek trickle down the spine

Miraak. That was who he reminded her of. His words were meant to soothe, to build up her shattered confidence, but the fact that he brought her long-dead uncle back to life made her feel like a girl all over again. Still small, still learning much. It was a feeling that brought her both comfort and frustration, and these emotions warred within her as he continued to speak.

Thank you, she said, not finding words other than those two for a few moments. She paused, and then shook her head. I've had a lot of help. A lot of luck, despite all of the bad things. Still, I can't do anything. I can't scout, I can't fight, I can barely catch fucking rabbits, Maegi spat bitterly, waggling her twisted foreleg. And I can't keep anyone around to stay. Everyone always leaves or dies.

She scoffed, a gusty, pointed sigh, and whipped her head away, ripping her gaze from Mahler and from Blackfeather Woods. I can't protect them like they need to be protected. I can't provide for them. All I have are my prayers and my poisons and fucking Pery—er, Jaes. God. Faith. And whatever teeth and claws and skills God had to give out, they were given to everyone else but me.

Maegi looked at the water, and then to the man, momentarily paralyzed to find Miraak standing there, as if nothing at all had changed over nearly eight seasons. My mother tried to kill me, she said baldly, face gone suddenly stark, emotionless. Maybe it would have been better if she succeeded.