Ouroboros Spine [m] ⊡ ukaksitaak ⊡

It was a simple matter, in the isbjörn's mind. Not of good and evil. Not of rights or culture. It was peace and safety — things he cared to provide for his wife when he was called to. Things he cared to provide for any wife, any woman, any children. And he saw the anger in Cen's eyes and believed that he did not care.

That he could not be trusted to care, rather. That he might rather go back and kill her than allow what this passed for in his mind. Injustice to him. Justice, perhaps, so the sunshine wolves? Valiant did not yet feel he was one of them. This did not feel like justice at all.

He held Cen firmly all the same, believing the man to be slated for death. Let them wash their hands of this in his blood. Valiant saw no other way to end this.

If he could catch Vairë's eyes, he only gazed steadily back. He knew why she was angry. If he let himself, he thought he would be angry, too. But it was important, he thought, for such things to be decided without emotion as well as with it.

Let Vairë be righteous. He felt it was her birthright. He, a new father, a veteran, a witness? Let him be pragmatic. It was what he did best.