a deep darkness had overwhelmed sulukinak's spirit as she recovered. her hunger grew with each passing day, her belly first dropping and then beginning to swell despite the lack of sustenance, and waves of sickness - which she attributed to her loss, her failure, her isolation - drained her of willpower.
when she finally had to feed on something, she was fortunate enough to find an ermine lost within the tangle. it was quick work, and after devouring it the shadow felt marginally better. it was not enough — but she did not think she deserved more than the bare minimum.
she had lost ghenaya.
the saatsine, for all she knew, had fallen.
she could not go back without something.
and so the days passed and sulukinak made her home there, in the wildwood. the sea sang to her upon the breeze or whispered through the rain, and she would stand for hours there in the shadows, listening to sedna. days became weeks; her midden-heap of bones grew little by little, as she ate only enough to stop from dying.
and still her belly grew.
when she finally had to feed on something, she was fortunate enough to find an ermine lost within the tangle. it was quick work, and after devouring it the shadow felt marginally better. it was not enough — but she did not think she deserved more than the bare minimum.
she had lost ghenaya.
the saatsine, for all she knew, had fallen.
she could not go back without something.
and so the days passed and sulukinak made her home there, in the wildwood. the sea sang to her upon the breeze or whispered through the rain, and she would stand for hours there in the shadows, listening to sedna. days became weeks; her midden-heap of bones grew little by little, as she ate only enough to stop from dying.
and still her belly grew.
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voice of the dead - by Sulukinak - April 20, 2025, 12:24 PM