Blackfoot Forest do you feel ashamed?

for @Marina -- open to her people as well!

there is first agony.

then there is anger.

red, hot, molten. the wrath of a man scorned. the wrath of a man betrayed. he lays upon a bed of moss, sullied with his own rot, grime and blood. but he does not bleed as he did. still, he is weakened. lifting head weakly to lap at the mound of snow before his mouth, seeking anything to quench his thirst.

it is the shuffle of paws at the entrance of the hollow that draws his attention. a bloodshot, yellow eye turning singular upon the woman carrying his brood. there is nothing within the eye but malice, dark and grim.

go. he demands.