Silver Creek for the man is not of the woman

addison nods slowly, eating quickly as she can while still remaining a figure of delicacy and grace. his question takes her unawares, and she swallows, licking all grime and blood from her chops before raising her head slightly to address him. moss is for bleeding, brother, she says softly. it quickly soaks up blood from a wound.

she has heard tales of women bleeding to death in labor. she is not ignorant of the possibility that she will have to aid one or more of her sisters should this complication arise--and that she may not be successful, in all cases. it sends a shock of fear through her, though she dismisses it quickly. she must be strong. she must be strong, in the only way she can be.

addison dips her head to the rabbit once more, continuing to strip the flesh from the delicate bones.