Broken Antler Fen klir

she wishes he would take himself more seriously. she wishes he found the capacity to choose, although his back over these tumultuous past weeks was the only one she would allow herself to sleep soundly against. 
she wishes she didn't have to put her hand on the stove to elect a reaction from him. she wishes she could see what he saw. she wishes he could resist her at times, like he did when she begged him to leave her to waste away, forever tarnished, alone. but polar waxs and wanes.
she doesn't know if she would ever be as strong, to do the things he had done for her. 
yo laik heda.
she knew that's what he genuinely believed. how she used to vaunt over the fact some mothers rumored she ate her sis and bro in her nomon's womb. now she was a wives tale of the few aimless specters of crogeda. 
sadgeda had spent all that she was. skairipa was spent.
and maybe that spy's head could return some her old glory to her.
"osir laik klir gon nau," she conceded cooly to no one. she hadn't even checked. she set the pair into a brisk pace once again, towards nowhere in particular. she wants to ask him what would they even do with themselves now.
ha! some heda he lauded. some heda she was.
the pelage on her neck rippled. she mutters as if defeated. "teik osir dig au stegeda en gonplei."