"He does not accept her." Vůdce's unhesitant frank callous words clamp around my throat strangling me preventing me from breathing. Her truth kills me from within as my being sways with my inability to sustain any more heartless words and actions.
I yearned to escape from this truth, the kindness he showed me the playful nights we spent together, the times he unabashedly showered me with his affection I had thought perhaps he was simply not ready to mark me. Perhaps he wished to take our relationship slow.
Yet my insecurity and terror have once more come to stand haughtily in front of me. It is true then, he does not accept me as his female. For if he sincerely did I would be marked and carrying his pup by now. My hand quivers as I hoist the knife to commence gutting the fish, it is my natural bodily response to the despair of my heart.