Hoshor Plains pavva ≖

She is young. Foolish.

Perhaps harsh, as an opening word, but Vairë soured to Ariadne’s display the more she replayed it. In a moment to step up, she had crumbled, with the women’s circle as witness. A question could not topple you to lead. The part of her that was leader, that was moondoe, agreed with this sentiment.

The smaller, softer part of her that was sister disagreed in a soft, moaning aside, that she should find her. Let her know they still loved her, no matter what she did. The part of her that was leader seethed at this notion. Vairë was a mix of these two arguments.

She chose this path. Now she must learn to stick to it. Old Doe blew out breath in a snort, side eyeing her from a skeptical angle. Were she mine, doe spoke, I would have drove her away from him with teeth at her heels. I would have struck blows. She turns her back on herd, it should be a punishment she gets, not this quiet acceptance.

Vairë did not respond.

It is a good thing she is not yours then. She is mine. And I will handle this how I see fit. If Ariadne wished to run to a man who had already proven he would not stay, she would be allowed it. 

May she learn.

May what happened to Vairë not come to pass for her sister.

Give me your suggestions, moonwoman. What should my children be known as, in their heart of hearts? Spoken not as Kukutux’s daughter, but as a fellow leader.

It was time moondoe stepped into the shoes left for her.