Ouroboros Spine i babble on until my voice is gone

Her name settled on her ears, and those shot forward in a prick as grandmother walked through the trees. Like a hound by the door, her tail thumped against the dirt of her resting place, though she didn’t raise her head. Hazel followed the white pelt of the woman, before she brought coltish limbs beneath her and she hauled herself up.

The dove flesh was taken delicately, then swallowed whole like a snake. Not the most delicate of ways to eat, but she hadn’t exactly realized how hungry she was. Lightfoot licked the remnants from her mouth and teeth, settled on her haunches.

She was saying things, grandmother. I wanted to listen. Her mother normally gave sage advice, why wouldn’t that be the case when she was lost in dreams too?