Ouroboros Spine [m] ⊡ ukaksitaak ⊡

Flip him.

There was little of Vairë’s warmth in her eyes as she spoke. Her anger was the desert, sucking out every ounce of good will she could offer. Her eyes never left the man, the creature who could barely be called a man. Grass whispered over her paws as she took another step forward.

She imagined it running with rivulets. She felt sick, but swallowed her nausea with practiced ease.

Then, a voice. The shadow girl spoke from the dark, spoke for a man who had near killed the rest of her family. Vairë’s head swung towards her in disbelief, disgust. It was plain on her face as she stared out past the blood. Her eyes turned to her mother, then back to the girl, then to the man.

She wanted to strike him. It was a realization that curdled her insides, but fed the anger. Old Doe sneered.

Ha! She would accept stag with anger in his heart! Let her learn. 

Her eyes traveled from her mother, to the shadow again, and she stood up taller.

You would accept him after all he’s done? An accusation, flung wild from her lips like spittle.

He must still be marked for what he has done! Who knows if he will just get another wife, and beat her to death all the same! What he would do to a daughter!

The man dared move, dared plead. Vairë shot into his path with a snarl, her tail straight in the air. In this, she was in control. In this, she could have his pelt join the ones in her den, his furs to warm her children.

Old Doe hooted in glee.