Mother Wolves - Part 2

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A legion of crows gather, thick in the sky, throwing moving shadows on the ground

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A legion of crows gather, thick in the sky, throwing moving shadows on the ground.

The wars of whites greet Odin's face, my mother seems to be without a solid structure, her Wild is flexing underneath the cacoon of skin. Odin presses his heels into the dirt, rooting himself within the soil before he shows her his completed height.

This is fear. . .

The wind shifts in high and low gusts.

"Mother Wolf," he bows his head and sets his shoulders — spine solid. I feel his resolve set itself in my own spine. Unbendable. He will not bend himself to her, I can feel the possession of his resolve deep inside the marrow of bones.

"Odin." Sickle-eyed, the voice of the Wild unleashes its uncontained violence into the face of him.

Thunder spreads out into a growling rumble from the gathering clouds.

"You have broken my daughter, she lays there shattered because of you." Her voice doesn't shuffle outward, it hits directly into Odin. I can feel the vibrations of it trembling through his skin.

"Your flesh won't be enough. I want your bones, Odin." Her words leech away the very air I am breathing.

"I did not do this mother wolf, I did not do that to my Half."

"Your half? How can you possibly say that?" Her words slip over Odin, I can feel the squeeze of his body. There is a small breath he takes. Nothing more — he doesn't release what's inside him.

"You lied to a mother." The sound of her voice takes shape into something sharp and deadly.

"I never lied to you, mother wolf. Not once." His palms are held up facing my mother, but it does nothing to deter the warpath she is on.

"I promised myself that my daughter would have a better life than me. I tried to give her something better than I ever had," she speaks through a clenched jaw as she looks around at everyone. Her eyes shine, but not one tear falls. Not one.

The clouds seem to block out all the light in the world.

Watching. Silence sentinels of lost Wilds are gathering — their eyes unblinking.

I can see Aunt Meela's eyes; they are bright enough to burn through the darkness. They glow hot with fury as she and Bessa fight tooth and claw. Blood, they are full of blood. Aunt Meela takes the fists of Bessa one hit after the other, and she looks crazed. Determined. Unbendable with sun-filled eyes that say she will not bend to that female. She will not concede, it will go to the death. I know it, I feel it.

Luna against Luna.

I can feel the beat of my heart in my throat. I can feel it pound one fast beat after the other. This has to stop, all of this has to stop.

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