Redtail Rise imitation

there's a madness in Avicus. there always has been, by birthright.

it has always manifested in the physical—the tearing of flesh, grinding of bone. the heavy impact of body against body, whether in combat or in copulation. visceral, primal, without deeper introspection—

but the days grow shorter, and colder, and she's retreated further into her mind.

Tulimaq has not yet returned. not alone, nor with the hunters he'd promised. she had thought upon his departure that she may not see him again, but it was just that—a fleeting thought.

now it plagues her.

she trots along the border, feeling the coming chill settle all along her spine. Tulimaq, most loyal—gone. Ratio and Mori, too, loyal—gone.

who will be next?

she listens to the quiet, punctured only by the hiss of her urine upon the jagged landscape that ringed the Rise, and of the distant seabirds upon the endless horizon. names, names wriggle into her brain like worms out of fresh-soaked soil—

it could be any of them.

how many could she permit to vanish altogether before she started to hunt them down?

to chain them here?

she will not let her children starve, Avicus vows as she sprays pungent warnings across the edge of her land.

she will not let her children starve