Great Bear Wilderness Take me to church,

...I don't know if I get scared, really. She murmured the thought. Often felt like someone on the outside looking in, unable to determine if the lack of control was a facade or a mechanism to keep patches sewn together. Detached and synchronous all at once. Something like it, maybe. But...no... It doesn't.

Sad, angry, worried, but not often truly scared. Even when she should've been. She paid little mind to how close he was. She liked being close.

I... don't know. It's not my place to judge. That's what gods are for, right? Everybody does things for a reason.

Or maybe that was just projection. It made her feel better, the indifference. It wasn't like the past could be changed anyways. She was used to the death of the young, saw much of it at the reach, high caste disregard for those below. In some sickly way she almost felt like it was deserved. But she shouldn't think such thoughts.

Some part of her knew it was wrong and yet another part of her knew it was expected, in a sense. Just nature. Just the way of things.

But the spilling of blood made her feel good, too, so she couldn't truly put too much judgement onto him. She was not limited only to the exchange between her half-sister. She was coyote bane too and she revelled in that in ways far beyond just the thrill of the kill.

What's your name? She'd ask finally. It was the polite thing to do, so custom had said.