I am Beast. I eat the flesh of predators. I write on parchment. I walk in the hills.
The hills are clay. TheMan with the Pottery Wheel uses clay. It is wet and sticky when it rains or snows.
I wonder about mom so long ago.
She was soft and safe.
I am hard outside. Soft inside. I keep things safe.
There is a word for a woman that lost her husband.
What is name for mother who lost her son?
I don’t know.
There are fierce people here. Fiercer than the Heron. They shoot arrows at me and make no peace.
They call me yenaldooshi like Ahusaka did. I hear them whisper. They are not quiet enough to take me.
I walk into their camp and they fear. Why they look for me then? Maybe not so fierce. They made a totem that looks like me.
The forest makes me calm. I think more clearly here. Some pain stays. Some pain goes away.
The moon will be full soon. I try to ignore it. It tears at me and I feel wild.
I feel my body changing. The outside is the same. The inside changes. Then I am RAGE AND BITTERNESS.
I try never to scratch or bite when men try to hurt me. I do not want them to be like me. They can get my sickness.
I kill what I bite.
It must be.
There must be no more of me.