Ouroboros Spine woza vumani bo

sobeille listened in grave silence. to her credit, she tried to understand this woman’s culture — and the taboos surrounding it that might influence the decisions of the characters in moonwoman’s story.

yet as the tale progressed, sobeille felt a budding sense of injustice. not for the first time did she think of men coldly, and bitterly ask herself why they must put up with them.

that this girl had to invoke power elsewhere to run from men stoked a latent fire within sobeille; it seemed an injustice she must take a different form to avoid harassment. is that not what women did? took small and inoffensive forms so they might not offend the fragile egos of men around them?

she was silent as she nurtured this bitter thought. the sea in this story came and swept them all away; it was a touching — and profoundly ironic end — but she wondered if the girl was happy to take the shape of something else. if she ever missed the moon’s cold light on her fur, or the wind gently rustling between her skin; if she missed the warmth of the living world, the pulse of her blood as it bound joyfully through her body. these things she would miss as a tree — even if her legacy outlived her tormentors.

after prolonged silence, sobeille stirred.do you like men, moonmother? she knew from the cut of kukutux’s body that she too had taken a different shape after the touch of man — but this was not really what she meant by this question; did Kukutux see any redeeming value in them?