Today, there's a feast of union. Maja still lives haunted by the water in Elysium, though. Burning lungs, burning throat. It's uncomfortable to consider, and she can hardly think about marriage in a time like this. She'd been different from the other village girls anyway, knowing that no soldier would ever take a fat girl with a plain face and an intimate connection to death. She didn't mind this, most days. The way she walks is a lonely one, but it's a path she treads regardless.

Quiet, unassuming Maja takes a position on the fringes of the feast. She's certain the younger ones are going to try to be swiping fermented berries. Today is her birthday. She could partake, possibly with the approval of the adults; she's old enough to be considered a part of the pack proper, considerably older than the rest of the children in Skjoldrheim. And yet, she's not sure she wants to. She's seen how the berries change people. Would she change in ways she doesn't want to?

Or would the part of her that hates come out?

Instead, she watches. Always the quiet observer, she is. She will watch until death comes for her again, and then will it be over? Or will she breathe again, only to die once more? She's not sure which one she likes more.

She doesn't expect anyone to talk to her. Who would? She's not even aware that her body is here most of the time.