Bearclaw Valley i drove to the mountain and a hole in the ground

no rejoinder to her apology, but it doesn't matter. forgiveness would not come in words; her mother had none. her mother is beyond words—a solid, unshakeable mass. physical, corporeal. words are fleeting but bones are forever, and her mother is here, here again. . .

Avicus lifts her nose and nudges it first under the woman's chin, then at the corner of her mouth, like a weanling looking for regurgitated flesh. it is only a kiss, though, and she retreats shortly afterward.

she stretches out her healing limb and gestures at the jagged new scar, looking almost proud. bear, she explains succinctly. but she straightens up again not a moment later, and the pleasure fades from her face. she would not have had to deal with the bear had she been at home. but she had left—and why—?

white woman, Avicus manages through gritted teeth. she hurt Aventus. i left to kill her.

and had gotten lost, not far into her odyssey. to illustrate this monumental failure, she gravely shakes her head, eyes downcast.