>>6142601“Barely came up ta’ my hip back then–eyes wide as plates an’ scowling somethin’ fierce…” Ma chuckles as she recalls the image. “I was ready ta’ chuck a table at ‘em when they asked if she was mine, but seeing that little pup trembling… still can’t tell if it was fear or the cold…”
The bartendress takes a swig of her drink to hide swallowing a lump in her throat, “Well, I sure as Hells couldn’t say no, now could I?”
You respond by taking a long swig of your namesake. So that’s how it happened, huh?
“That’s how it <span class="mu-i">started</span>, sure!” Ma snorts! “I played my part, of course–wrapped Volk in my tail, bit my tongue while the guards lectured me on how I oughta know better, paid the fine… an’ the whole time Volka just stood there wrapped in my tail like a doll–couldn’t get a word outta’ here even after the Bellcounters left.”
So what did she do?
“Well, I went back ta’ work.” Ma shrugs again. “Needless ta’ say my customers were surprised ta’ hear I was a ‘mom’ this whole time… drunk bastards. They… they were kind, though.” The Skog says, a weak smile forming on her face. “They waited fer’ their drinks, smiled at my ‘daughter’... Hells, even the rowdier folks kept quiet all night. And as for Volka, well… coulda’ swore the girl was mute til’ I fed her some Kruutz skewers.” Blinking in realization, the bar matron cocks her head to the side. “Skog dish. Spices, meats, all the essentials for a growin’ Bloodletter.”
So <span class="mu-i">THAT’S</span> what that smell is, you remark, shifting your gaze towards the spicy smell behind her!
“My specialty!” Ma replies, puffing her chest out with pride! “Anyways, poor thing musta’ housed five servings before she spoke up–an’ I use ‘spoke’ lightly, cuz’ at the time it was more of a whisper than anything else–and do you know what she said?”
You weren’t there, so no, you reply with an apologetic smile!
“‘<span class="mu-i">You’re not my mother.</span>’” Answers Ma adopting a quiet, shivering tone! “HA! Can ya’ believe it? Girl was barely the size of my leg an’ she had me <span class="mu-i">SPEECHLESS!</span>”
That’s… harsh, you remark, struggling to imagine Volka being so cold.
“That ain’t the half of it!” Snorts the bartender with a shake of her head, “Little snot bit my tail when I tried ta’ stop her from running off… scurried off into the blizzard without a shred of thanks! Thought that was the end of it until about a month or so later–biggest spiking Crossroad’s had in years-
<span class="mu-i">Spiking?</span>
“Right… Ice storm. Like a blizzard, but with daggers. Not too common out here, but in the West? Bout’ as common as rain.”
You make a mental note to invest in a high-grade umbrella. So Volka came back, huh?
>CONTD. 