Her molar was smaller than she had expected, dabbled in the splotches of blood that had followed in the wake of the force that had impacted her skull. She peered down at it as her own eyes widened at the sound of Roskva’s voice. Even her pain was forgotten as Kvitrafn marveled at her own bones.

They were…beautiful.

Kvit had been quick to stumble towards it, wobbly legs and all, as she aimed to draw her own tooth close to her chest so that she could inspect it even closer—perhaps she’d do a side-by-side with one of Roskva’s own.

See which one was bigger, stronger, better.

But then the sound of her mother’s voice boomed within their cavern and Kvitrafn’s blood ran cold.

She froze, paralyzed from where she stood, as the headache behind her eyes bloomed ravenously within her skull.

Oh no.

The thunk of her stick was loud in the White Raven’s ears as she turned a wide-eyed stare toward Roskva, watching as her bigger sister collected the teeth her mother sought after.

Kvitrafn pushed her own tooth closer toward her feet, as if trying to hide its pearly white beneath the scuffle of blood and fur.

But nothing gets behind Sreda.

Kvitrafn felt the cool gaze of her mother linger at her back, and at the rolling of her words, Kvitrafn could not hide the groan that fell from her teeth. Fine, she mumbled indignantly, as she nosed her own molar out from the tufts of her forepaws and into the pile Roskva had created with her own teeth.

And then, with annoyed disappointment, she sat down beside her larger sister—head down and eyes cast toward her paws, with only the briefest glance given to their pile of teeth she still hoped she could keep.