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.

Roskva Kvitrafn 

---

---

As expected, they obeyed.

Sreda did not smile, though she felt it blossom behind her fangs.

The two of them gently shuffled all of the opaline fangs toward her greedy paws, setting them directly in her grasp. It had been so easy. Oh, Sreda was so proud! And they listened without hesitation! She should reward that behavior, shouldn't she? Certainly. Eventually.

Sreda would hum, casting her single-eyed gaze down upon each of her warrior princesses. Both of them, so much more fierce and perfect than she ever could have imagined. Both of them, monsters hiding in plain sight. Beautiful. Deadly.

They would not be stifled. Not in Northfall. Not in her care.

I am proud of you both, she would start, her tail flicking over her paws as the magic trick began. Sreda's ears would flick forward, her discipline accented by the rare hint of her praise. Do you know the power that teeth hold? Her head would tilt, a storm swirling above her as she ran her tongue over her teeth. Somewhere, beneath the magic of her words, Sreda would shift a few of the teeth backwards ... beneath her belly. Secret and hidden.

Sreda was just a mother, keeping her children's teeth.

She would need a few for herself.

For reasons.

Probably.

Communication. The word echoed as the witch would answer for them, continuing the ruse as she opened up her paws to reveal the remaining teeth to her children. Remember: you have only so many sisters. Sreda would lower her head, bearing her fangs in the direction of her children. But it was not meant to be scary, no ... simply a smile. A warning. Don't make a habit of breaking one another, hm?

She'd pause, eyeing the teeth.

Still, these are your spoils. She'd quirk a brow, emotionless but somehow thoughtful. Whoever's idea this was gets first pick of the prize. It was up to them to be honest. To communicate, as the teeth dictated.

Other than the ones that were tucked secretly under Sreda's belly, of course.

---

What a question! Of course she did. Roskva opened her mouth wide, displaying all of her (remaining) puppy teeth as she clacked her jaws together several times to prove a point.

Yeah! If you bite hard 'nuff, problems go away! she crowed triumphantly. Teeth are the most powerful!

Next to large clubs.

Roskva was so preoccupied with this exciting new topic that she failed to notice Sreda surreptitiously pulling a few of their own lost soldiers toward herself, tucking them covertly against the longer fur of her belly.

Communication.

Her brows furrowed together, puzzled. This hadn't quite gone in the direction she had anticipated, expecting much more on the subject of rending and tearing and the many other fun applications of teeth, but if Mama said so...

Yes'm, she said, head bowed. Sorry.

And yet.

Her ears pricked forward, eyes growing wide as she realized Mama was still pleased enough to let them keep their prizes. Unfortunately she chose to reward the first Whacker with their pick; Roskva, greedy as she was, didn't have a truly malicious bone in her body and relinquished her greatest desires to the cold, bitter truth.

I had the stick... she said, crestfallen, ... But Kvit hit me first.