3/18/2026, 1:14 PM
omg <333
how samo inclined his body toward her brought a reciprocal racing to elk charm's pulse. shyly she wondered if he was able to sense that, grateful for the darkness which obscured her open expressions from view. but the sharadoii pulled thoughts from herself to reorient upon the aedui man.
it was not an easy story, to tell or to hear. it was horrible still to know that he had suffered all recited word in this recitation, and when she at last caught her breath, the inhale was filled with tears.
her paw had not left his own.
enemies came down to demand green land. a clan which called to others. a betrayal in silence. he had lost his father, and she thought of her own in that moment, feeling a spear of anguish slide between her ribs. the hurting boy still lived inside samo.
they had been conquered but he had not forgotten himself. he had spoken of keeping the ways of his people, for that moment of potential hope stamped out by these romans.
our women.
at that moment, hardness ran through samo as a current, but elk charm did not pull away, her silence still in listening. fighting wearied the heart and the mind as well as the body. if warriors had come to the great stag band, what would they have done?
the story -- a boy who now walked forth to glean the wisdom of forefathers in battle.
elk charm wiped at her own face, as she had done several times in the telling. half light showed the salt trailing across the man's muzzle. victory denied. a boy made into a slave.
stigmata.
twelve.
anger had roiled several times in elk charm by now, but now rage sparked, for all the denials samo had suffered in such a young life. a gaul who did not lose his pride through the indignity and torment and murder. she could not picture such entertainments and thus the scene took on a new sort of horror.
his gods must have been like her caribou spirits. elk charm found contentment in the idea that he had been led back, that he had been lifted from the long waters to live once more.
blue eyes widened as samo concentrated upon her with suddenness. a roman? here? in these lands? that this man had recognized samo clutched her gut with fear, and that at last brought her voice -- almost. his own had begun to fade with the strain of much talking, many things to remember and to feel, until the last
i will serve you.
will of the gods. will of my heart.
elk charm swallowed, her heart galloping now on the force of all said and unspoken.
almost translucent she felt beneath his gaze.
serve her! but in the directness of his eyes, elk charm understood samo meant each word, felt herself wanting to reciprocate in a way that restored him.
it was not an easy story, to tell or to hear. it was horrible still to know that he had suffered all recited word in this recitation, and when she at last caught her breath, the inhale was filled with tears.
her paw had not left his own.
enemies came down to demand green land. a clan which called to others. a betrayal in silence. he had lost his father, and she thought of her own in that moment, feeling a spear of anguish slide between her ribs. the hurting boy still lived inside samo.
they had been conquered but he had not forgotten himself. he had spoken of keeping the ways of his people, for that moment of potential hope stamped out by these romans.
our women.
at that moment, hardness ran through samo as a current, but elk charm did not pull away, her silence still in listening. fighting wearied the heart and the mind as well as the body. if warriors had come to the great stag band, what would they have done?
the story -- a boy who now walked forth to glean the wisdom of forefathers in battle.
elk charm wiped at her own face, as she had done several times in the telling. half light showed the salt trailing across the man's muzzle. victory denied. a boy made into a slave.
stigmata.
twelve.
anger had roiled several times in elk charm by now, but now rage sparked, for all the denials samo had suffered in such a young life. a gaul who did not lose his pride through the indignity and torment and murder. she could not picture such entertainments and thus the scene took on a new sort of horror.
his gods must have been like her caribou spirits. elk charm found contentment in the idea that he had been led back, that he had been lifted from the long waters to live once more.
blue eyes widened as samo concentrated upon her with suddenness. a roman? here? in these lands? that this man had recognized samo clutched her gut with fear, and that at last brought her voice -- almost. his own had begun to fade with the strain of much talking, many things to remember and to feel, until the last
i will serve you.
will of the gods. will of my heart.
elk charm swallowed, her heart galloping now on the force of all said and unspoken.
there is no foolish in you, samo. and you will never be this -- slave -- again.her own eyes sparked with a refraction of that earlier ire, then faded. she wished to touch his scarring.
but i not argue with heart. or gods.
almost translucent she felt beneath his gaze.
it is will of my heart that i help with twelve-mark. stig-ma-ta,she said carefully, believing that she already perceived how to cover the scars and also honor the gaul.
and,her tones roughened, fell,
maybe we make death wetu for father.
serve her! but in the directness of his eyes, elk charm understood samo meant each word, felt herself wanting to reciprocate in a way that restored him.