Porcupine Ridge ouroboros

a galloping horse, a charging bull, the clashing of ram horns.

she saw within the coywolf a special kind of tenderness. the knowing of when to nurture or when to gut. makono wondered if she would ever be able to do that balancing act. yet she saw how the others blossomed for it. the young girl, the sunken shadows of the returned man. all nurtured by the knowing hands and acts of muskrat.

did everyone here love one another?

that she did not know but she found the thought settled heavier than stone in her stomach. how could it be bloodshed that bonded them when none of them had warred together yet? the only thing she could imagine was love.

if it was not blood or love?

well, then she was not sure and that also added to the sense of unsettlement. still she lingered and played witness to it all. felt some sense of detachment that was no one's fault but her own. she felt small embers of warmth as she witnessed the man being cradled by strong warrior arms. jealousy would have once rioted within her but she realized that was not her right.

not here.

i can be on watch or go gather supplies, her voice was for the one who had summoned her. the one who seemed to have held all of them, in one way or another.

there was a power in muskrat that might forever be unmatched by anyone else she would ever know.

maybe it did not need to be love or blood.

maybe there was more in the world than just those things.