Refusal of Weakness

11 cycles. I was given the mark of subservience to the eyes of Ry’nr.

At 13 cycles I remember not feeling pain after the regular training. The only pain wrought  against me was in the thick.

14 cycles. I slit Drif the Elk’s throat and dragged him into  the plains by the river. I brush the path with rainleaf and stab myself with his antler club in the leg. I slash his tendons. I replace his spread with mine. I became the new head hunter by defending myself from his fury head on.

26 cycles. I take the oath of refusal in front of my slain care. I drink his blood and infuse my spirit with his. My bones vibrate as I feel sound and taste power. The ground shakes with their devotion as I know this land is mine as beast and kin fear and love me alike.

 

I feel a sharp prick as two needles prick my neck and I reach out to grab a serpent and find the thin arms of a small one.

I walked through the life not beyond but before.

It holds a thick viper in it’s hands and smiles at me as I feel the skin of my neck already splitting from swelling as the liquid death squeezes through compressing meat. I try to hold onto the one who fell me. I feel a change of touch, and a crack as the viper is snapped in my hands but not by my force.

In eyes I see kin and death. I see the blood of hatred. A gentle touch wipes the tears and blood from my face and leads it to a beautiful innocent mouth.

A protection from my vengeance. I hear words thinning like the call of flight.

A humming noise, the sound of life beating furiously away.

“Refusal of the thick, brings death deeper than spirit”.

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Refusal of Weakness

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