THE MOTHER OF WOLVES
This is a story so detestable, so regrettable, that the powers that be have completely severed it from the Tapestry.
It is a memory from another, whose actions made the world a worse place. A revelation of what awaits at the end of a dark road.
No paths exist from this place to that reality. No links connect this story to the shining Thread that is the future.
And may it stay that way. May this cut-off History never touch the Garden.
- - -
You are Septimus. And right now, you are asleep.
"…"
Or at least you are trying to sleep.
"… Septimus…"
After all, it's kind of hard not to wake up when you are getting shaken this hard.
"… Septimus…!"
You roll on your side, your mind still too numb to really care about that whispering voice that is so desperately calling your name. And besides, the shaking isn't really that strong. So, whatever this is about, it surely can't be that urgent, right?
Your semi-conscious mind thinks all of that, as it slowly tries to persuade you back into a deeper sleep…
"Septimus… Septimus…!"
Until you realize it's your little sister that's calling and shaking you.
And her voice sounds terrified.
As soon as you realize that, you wake up with a start. Your body moving out of instinct as you jump out of bed, the sudden rush of cold air hitting you with a painful jab as you leave the soft warmth that you had under the fur covers.
But you don't care about that. You don't care about your comfort, or how tired you feel, or the fact that it's so dark that you almost can't see anything. The only thing you know is that your sister is here. She is here, and she sounds
scared, and that means that
something is wrong.
Your mind, suddenly awake thanks to the jolt of adrenaline, starts going through everything you know as soon as your senses can perceive them.
You can hear your sister,
so she is not dead.
You can't hear the howl of wolves,
so none of you are about to die.
You can't hear any screaming,
so you shouldn't immediately run.
You can barely see anything, so… so nothing is on fire, and the village's main hearth hasn't been lit for the wake-hours yet, and...
You stand still in the near-total darkness of your tent for several seconds as your heartbeat slowly,
slowly, calms down.
And as you finish going through the long list of all the things you have been taught to fear, all the warning signs you have learned to look for, and you realize that none of them are happening… your thoughts finally return to the reason you woke up in the first place.
Your posture relaxes slightly as you turn to face your sister.
Your little sister is right in front of you. You can see her, or at least the dark contour of her silhouette, thanks to the faint bonfire-light that leaks into your tent, coming from the guard-torches around the village. You can also hear her, breathing in fits and stops, whatever words she is trying to say being interrupted by hiccups and sniffling.
And she is crying.
"Octavia? Shh, shh, it's fine," you say, definitely snapping out of your alertness and bringing her into a hug, being able to know exactly where she is even despite all the darkness. "Here, here, it's all right, you don't have to worry about anything…"
You say those words almost out of habit, as you hug her. The years and years that you have spent taking care of her showing themselves in every small detail, from your tone of voice to the slight tightness that you hold her with.
"It's alright, no need to cry," you keep saying, only a small part of you wondering what might have scared her to begin with. After all, she became old enough to sleep in her own tent not long ago, so she probably just heard some strange noise that scared her…
Your thoughts vaguely wonder in that direction, already thinking that soon enough she will stop crying and you will be able to go back to sleep-
"N-no… It's not alright…"
-until she says those words.
And for some reason, you immediately freeze.
Something is wrong. Or rather, something wrong has happened to your sister. You instantly notice it, just from her tone when she said those words.
You realize it, and she realizes that you realize it. And suddenly, the hug that you are giving her becomes… not awkward, but
uneasy. As your sister becomes unusually still, almost as if waiting for you to make some sort of connection.
And you do make that connection, a few moments later.
After all, why did your sister come here? She is old enough to have her own tent. She also certainly knows better than to come running for you, if something scares her. She is old enough to know that she should alert the night-watch if she hears something that
really makes her worry. And what is more, given her age, and yours, your tents are already among the closest to the center of the camp to begin with.
So
why is your sister here?
Why is she
here, and not in one of your parents' tents?
The more you think about that, the air around you two becoming colder and colder, the more you realize that… that there is one particular answer that would fit all of those questions.
Although you dearly,
dearly hope that you are wrong.
"Octavia…" you begin to say very slowly, taking a deep breath before you continue, "why… exactly are you here…? What happened…?"
But as you say that, you can practically feel her beginning to tremble against your chest. And you know that it is not because of the cold.
"Septimus, I… I don't… it just…
I'm sorry…" she says, sobbing and stuttering so much that you can barely understand what she means.
"Octavia," you say her name, your voice turning slightly harsher as you break away from the hug, your sister practically curling up in fear at that. "What happened?"
"I-I… I swear that I d-didn't
mean to, and…" she begins to say, the her tears glimmering with what little light there is. But you interrupt her before she can even finish a sentence.
"What. Happened." You ask again, with the same tone your father would use to reprimand you, although part of you already knows what she is going to say next.
Even if you honestly don't want to hear what she is about to say.
"I… I…" she says, in a tone that is at the same time scared and lost.
You hear her gulp down something dry, and then she finally says it.
"I just woke up from a dream."
You nearly lose your balance at that. Your heart begins to hammer inside your chest, and you only realize that you were walking backwards,
distancing yourself from your little sister, when your back hits your bed.
And before you even have the chance to react, she continues talking.
"A-and… and when I w-woke up…" she says, and you can hear the rustling of fur as she carefully moves her clothes to uncover a very specific part of her body. "When I woke up…
this was h-here and…!"
Your eyes go wide in shock, and your breath gets stuck in your throat.
Because even though it is dark, even though you can barely see anything… you can still see it.
You can clearly see the curse-mark, on your sister's body.
To be honest, you think you can still see it even after she covers it again with her clothes.
"Oh no…" is all you can say.
And you don't know what to do next.
Because you know what you should do. Everything you have ever learned, every last scrap of common sense that you have, has taught you what you
should do next. You should run away. You should run away and warn the nearest adult. You should scream for the nearest night-watcher, and tell them that your sister had a dream and is now cursed.
You know you should do that, because the longer you take to do it, the closer the wolves are getting, being attracted by the smell of her curse.
But the problem with that is… Octavia is your
sister. She is your little sister, and you have taken care of her for longer than she remembers.
You can't possibly bear to do it. You can't… you can't lose
another sibling.
After all, you realize that your name is Septimus, and yet… you only have two older siblings.
Your entire village is in danger.
You are in danger. And even though you have no idea of what happens with a curse-marked, except that they are never seen again, you also know that whatever happens is for the best.
And yet…
"Septimus…" she says, her voice breaking down as she tries to speak over her tears.
Your mind goes blank. Your heart feels heavy, and colder than the air around you.
Your entire body goes stiff, as you are paralyzed by your indecision.
"Please help me…" she says, almost in a whisper.
And even though you know that you will regret it, you do what you must.
- - -
There are several things that you have been taught, as you grew up. Several truths that you have learned, both through words and experience, in order to survive.
Always munch on a Woods-leaf before sleeping, so you won't have any dreams.
Always be careful with fire, especially around furs and tents.
Always run, whenever you hear a wolf's howl.
You have been taught those things, and so much more. You know dozens, perhaps hundreds of other tidbits of information that you have been taught. Passed down to you through oral tradition, memorized in the form of lyrics and songs, carved into your body in the form of scars and broken bones. Every last one of those lessons being invaluable tolls, that have the sole purpose of letting you live another day.
And now… you are about to throw all of those tools to the wind. You are about to ignore all of those directions, and disregard every last bit of guidance you have ever received, to do what you are about to do.
Because you are going to help your sister.
"Cover yourself with this," you say, as you put your second heaviest pelt around her small body, "tie it with a double notch. Around your body, not your neck."
Your heart is hammering inside your chest, to the point that you can hear it inside your head. But still, you continue your preparations regardless, preparing your satchel with what supplies you have in your own tent as silently as possible.
You don't have much, you realize. Most of the things you are used to taking belong to your father and are in his own tent. Which means you have no hopes in acquiring them without waking him up. But still, you think you have enough.
"Okay… I'm… I think I'm done," you hear your sister say, as you finish packing what few torches, traps and knives you have, "but Septimus, what are we going to do…?"
You throw your satchel around your back and turn to face her, double-checking to make sure that she strapped her furs correctly. And although you try your best to hide it, you have to admit that your voice is shaking a little bit when you tell her your plan.
"You know we can't tell the grownups, Octavia. You know that the cursed-marked are never heard from again," you say, and you can see her shivering as you say those words. "So, I'm taking you out of here. We are going to look for the Lantern Witch."
And before your mind has any time to realize how much of a bad idea this is, you sneak out of your tent, beckoning your sister to follow you as quietly as she can.
…
Sneaking out of the village was something easier said than done. Both because the older members of the village had their tents closer to the edges, and because the perimeter of the village itself was surrounded by the bright light of the guard-torches, with night-watchers cautiously patrolling the limits of the village.
But still, you somehow pulled it off. You managed to leave the village with your sister in tow.
Maybe you managed to do it because the night-watchers were too focused on things that might be stalking around the village, and they weren't paying attention to what was happening inside of it.
Or maybe they just let you two leave. Maybe they heard the conversation you and your sister had, with their keen ears and keener intuitions, and they just let you two go.
Either way, the two of you did it. You left the safety and light of the village behind, and entered the oppressive darkness of the forest.
"Whatever happens," you say, as you light up the second torch and give it to your sister, "stay close to me, and don't let go of your torch."
"Okay…" she says, as she meekly accepts it, "but… won't it be easier for us to be found if we walk around with torches?"
You look back at her as she asks that, trying your best to hide how conflicted you are about answering her question.
Because to be entirely honest, she is right. Your torches will scare away some of the things that stalk around the forest. The smaller things. But it might also attract the attention of the larger, more dangerous beasts.
However…
Well, the two of you will have no way to navigate the forest without light. And the larger things, the larger creatures that won't be scared by the torches, also have better ways to track you two than with their sights.
You also know that you won't have any hopes of fighting any of those creatures back, if they do find you.
So, for all that you two are exposing yourselves with your torches, you also need them. And the two of you will die if anything dangerous find you either way.
But Octavia… doesn't need to know any of that.
"Don't worry," is all you tell her. "I've been in a few short hunts with father before. I know what I'm doing."
You tell her that.
And she believes you.
The small, fearful nod that she gives you when you say those words, when you
lie to her, reminds you of how much of a bad idea this is. But it also reminds you that you are all that she has left.
So, without any further sound, you make your way deeper into the forest, with Octavia soundlessly following after you.
- - -
The two of you have been walking for… a very long time now.
You think the wake-hours might already have started, back in the village. You wonder if your absence has already been noticed.
It probably has.
You wonder if the adults, your parents most of all, have already guessed why the two of you disappeared.
They probably have.
And even if they haven't, even if for some reason they instead think that the two of you were abducted, that something managed to creep into the village in the middle of the night and drag
only the two of you away… you still know that wouldn't change their reaction to it in the slightest.
You know that they will still mourn you and your sister as if you have died, and that they will not go out into the forest to search for you.
So, you know that there is nothing else you can do but keep moving forward.
The dark forest stretches in all directions around you and your sister, like an endless jaw of blackness that seems to be threatening to close around you at any moment. It scratches and scrapes with its sharp leaves at the thick fur coat you are wearing. It tries to trip you with the roots of trees that seem to move when you are not looking.
You have never been this far into the forest. You have never been this far from any of the places where the village had settled down before.
But you also think you are getting
close to where you are trying to reach.
The Lantern Witch is an enigmatic creature, a user of strange magics that, from what you have heard, emits light from her eyes as if she had a great bonfire inside her head. You have only seen her once, from a distance, and you have only ever heard tales of what she is capable of doing.
The adults say that she is not to be trusted. However, the fact remains that every time she visits the village, she always spends several hours speaking to the elders inside one of the larger communal tents.
You have heard tales that she can see the future, and that the elders cautiously try to pry from her tidbits of advice whenever she appears.
You have heard tales that she knows things that have already been forgotten, and that she can perform impossible feats.
You do not know if any of those things are true.
But what you
do know is that every time she visited the village, she always came from the same direction. And that is the direction you and Octavia have been walking all this time.
You can only hope that your hunch about this is correct. You can only keep walking and try your best to… try your best
not to picture the two of you walking in the dark, forever, in a path that doesn't really have anything at its end.
You dearly hope that…
"Septimus…" your sister whispers, her hushed and fearful tone almost deafeningly loud against the quiet backdrop of the darkness around you.
"Shh… I already told you, I don't know how farther ahead it is," you preemptively answer her. Trying your best to keep your own fear out of your voice.
"Not that…" she answers, and you slow down as you turn back to look at her.
"What is it, then? Are you hungry?" you ask.
"No… it's itching…" she says, "the… the mark is…"
Your blood freezes inside your veins as you hear her say those words.
"
Wha-… for how long? And how much?" you ask, urgency bleeding into your voice as you look around you.
Because you have no idea what this means. You have no idea what it means when a curse-mark itches, but you can only assume that it means something
bad.
"Just now, and… not a lot?" she says, half-asking. Her own voice growing more uncertain and fearful as she looks up to you. "Septimus i-is… is this bad?"
It's bad. Of course it's bad. You have absolutely no doubt that this is a horrible portent.
"No, don't worry," you lie, very unconvincingly, and you continue to move as fast as you can without making any sound. "But let's, uh, let's not stay put."
Your sister follows after you a lot less quietly, but still she does her best to keep up with you.
And soon enough, you start noticing that she is not the
only thing keeping up with you.
"…"
It is just a feeling, at first. An impression that you are being followed. A spine-chilling hunch that
something is looking at the distant glimmer of your torch, but without the instinctive fear that an unintelligent animal would have of the light.
Then you hear something. Or you think you hear something. The sound of leaves being disturbed, of cold grass being softly stepped on. Of something large and furred scraping against a tree.
And finally, you smell it. On the very edge of your perception, you feel it. The stench of rotten meat, the odor of a putrid breath coming from a gullet that is too large and has already tasted too much blood.
"It's… it's itching real bad now, and-" your sister begins to say.
But you interrupt her.
"Octavia,
run!"
You break into a run, not caring anymore for how much noise you will make, and your sister follows right after you.
And just how you feared, the thing that was following you begins to run as well.
A chill runs down your spine, and tears begin to run down your eyes, when you hear the sound of a wolf's howl coming from behind you in the distance.
Everything after that happens in a blur.
Octavia drops her torch at some point, while she tries her best to keep up with you.
The sound of running paws gets closer and closer to you.
You ditch your own satchel, and you tell your sister to drop anything else that could be weighting her down.
Other howls come from a distance, from all directions. All directions except from straight ahead.
You drop your own torch on a large bush after the two of you jump over it, hoping that it catches fire and delays your pursuer, even if only for a second.
The wolf gets closer and closer. You can hear its gasping breath as it runs after you. You hear it jumping over the flaming bush almost without any effort.
You and Octavia keep running in the darkness. The darkness seeming to close in around you like a tomb as you hear the signs of more and more wolves coming from all directions.
"Sept! There! Light!" your sister shouts, between desperate breaths. And you almost don't believe your own eyes when you look in the direction she is pointing at.
Because sure enough, you can see it. A glimmer in the distance, a flicker of golden light that shines as brightly as a bonfire against the all-consuming blackness of the forest.
The two of you rush there as fast as your legs can take you, the vicious growling lunges of the thing right behind you making you and your sister run faster than you ever ran in your entire life.
And not a moment to soon, you and Octavia finally reach the source of the light.
It is a large, bulky thing that vaguely resembled a very large communal tent. Except that it was made of wood.
But you don't care for how strange it is. All that you care is that you can see an opening on its front, the soft light leaking out of it like a welcoming hearth.
You grab your sister and push her into that place's opening, and you swear that you hear the sound of a snapping jaw close on the space she was but a moment before. The next moment, you also dive into the strange wooden structure.
And as if the place had a life of its own, a large wooden door slams shut right behind you, closing the entrance to this place.
You swear that you hear the sound of
something slamming against the door, followed by an irate whimper. But you don't care. You just hug your crying sister tightly against your chest, as the two of you fall to the wooden floor, completely exhausted.
But before you can even catch your breath, you hear a voice coming from somewhere deeper in this place. A warm, matronly voice, that you might have thought was from your own mother if the tone was only slightly different.
"Oh, you are right on time," the voice says.
And you immediately understand that this place, this strange wood-wrought tent, is the Lantern Witch's house.
You almost collapse in tears when you realize that you and your sister are finally,
finally safe. Perhaps safer than you have ever been in your entire lives.
- - -
"Seven and Eight, eh? Unimaginative, but I can't really blame your parents for it. It's not like imagination is really encouraged these days."
You have to admit that you are somewhat… surprised, by the Lantern Witch.
She looks normal, or at least normal enough. Like an adult that's a bit on the old side, but still one that wouldn't look out of place in the village.
But you didn't expect her to be this… welcoming?
Because, well, you expected the Lantern Witch to be… at least enigmatic. Or reserved. Or at the very least foul-tempered by you and your sister suddenly intruding in her house.
But instead, she simply sat the two of you down (in a
very soft thing she called a "couch", mind you) and started preparing a soup for you two. Engaging you and your sister in conversation all the while.
"Uhm… Mrs. Witch," your sister meekly speaks up, still huddling close next to you where you are sitting, "is that… is that what our names mean?"
"Why, of course dear. Septimus and Octavia means seven and eight, in a sense. Or at least it used to, back then. Language used to be a lot more interesting and nuanced, before the world became like this."
She says that almost casually, as she stirs from a great cauldron, the smell of which continues to get better and better.
"But still, you haven't told me yet why you are here. What brings two cute little things like you to my humble home?" she asks, her back turned to you as she continues to add more and more ingredients to her cooking.
And you share a long, dreadful moment with your sister before you speak up.
Because for all that you are glad that you made it this far, you still don't know if the Lantern Witch will be able to help Octavia.
"She… my sister, Mrs. Witch, she… had a dream," you say.
"And I woke up with a… with a curse-mark," your sister finishes, cautiously, or perhaps unconsciously, grabbing at the part of her fur coat that is covering that part of her body.
And upon hearing that, the Lantern Witch… cautiously turns her head to look at you.
Or rather, she very carefully begins to look at your sister, who then presses herself even more strongly against you.
The silence begins to stretch long as the Lantern Witch intently holds your sister gaze, until…
"Oh dear…"
Until the Witch says that, and turns back to focusing on her cooking.
"Oh dear? Why?!" you speak up, your thoughts balancing on the edge between worry and panic. "Is there anything you can do to help my sister? Please Mrs. Witch, I'm begging you!"
"Heavens, calm down boy," she says chidingly, but still in a tone that doesn't seem at all worried. "I said that because, unless I am mistaken, you two seem to have gotten it all wrong. In fact, your whole village seems to have gotten it wrong."
"I… we… wait, what?" you try, and fail, to say something, but you are utterly confused by what she just said. "We got something wrong? What?"
"The mark, dear," she says, absent-mindedly nodding towards your sister, "that mark. It's not cursed. Not exactly, at least."
"I'm not cursed?" your sister asks, her eyes lighting up for the first time in a long while, "Mrs. Witch, are you sure about this? My… the curse-mark… it isn't cursed?"
"Nope. Never was. And those marks were a lot more common, back then…" she says, and you see that she stops stirring the cauldron for a few moments.
To be honest, she almost sounds nostalgic.
"They had a different name back then, also. And their appearance used to be a cause for celebration and…" she lets out a sigh, "well, not anymore, I suppose. Not anymore…"
The Witch keeps looking towards nowhere in particular for a long moment, and you are not entirely sure of what to say. Or even if you should say anything at all.
But before you can think of anything, your sister speaks up.
"But… but the wolves, Mrs. Witch. Can't the wolves smell the curse-marks? That's what the elders and our parents always told us. And they did find us, in the forest…"
You nod at that. Your sister is right. The adults did tell you that the curse-marks attracted the wolves. And also, your sister said that the mark was itching back in the forest, and a few moments later a wolf appeared. So the marks definitely have to be cursed.
"What? No. The wolves can't smell them, dear. What happens is that the Mother of Wolves knows it, when one of those marks appear."
You and your sister immediately tilt your heads at that.
And the Lantern Witch notices. Her expression also becoming doubtful, just like your own, but for a completely different reason.
"Hang on, you two don't know who I am talking about? Haven't your parents told you about the Mother of Wolves?" she asks, and you and your sister shake your heads. "Haven't… haven't they even told you
why the world is like this? Why there are so many wolves around? Or about the day the Sun was eaten, and the stars were snuffed out?"
She almost looks annoyed when you and Octavia, once again, shake your heads.
But still, as irritated as she looks, the Lantern Witch still returns her attention to her soup, and she lets out a small sigh as she continues to speak.
"Well, I suppose this is bound to get lost, as the generations go by. So pay attention, you two. A story is in order, for you to understand exactly what happened. To you, Octavia, and to the world."
And then, the Witch begins to tell you two about a story from before the world was plunged into darkness.
- - -
The Mother of Wolves, as you can guess from her name, is the mother of those things that tried to catch you out there.
But she wasn't called that, before. Oh no. She had a name, back then. And more importantly, she was… she was normal.
She was normal, before she became what she is today. She was a wife, and a mother, and… and a friend, even. She also had a daughter that was about your age, Octavia.
The problem was that, at a certain point, she began to make some mistakes. She did a few things that she would come to regret. Although, as it usually is with mistakes, the things that she did really looked like the best possible options at the time.
And also, as it almost always happens, she always did those things with the best of intentions.
Her mistakes… were seven. Seven regrets. Seven blunders. Seven sins, each worse than the last.
Seven offsprings, to carry on her legacy. Seven wolves.
Seven sons, born from the Mother of Wolves.
Or rather, six sons and one daughter. The last one was by far the worse, after all, because it was born with the ability to spread. But that's beyond the point. Call them sons, call them daughter, call them wolves, the fact remains that they are still out there, and that they all have their source in their Mother's original actions.
They are still out there, and they are still bad. And yet… and yet, they are still better than the alternative. Because even though those curse-marks weren't called that, back then, it still happened that… well, that bad things happen, if too many marks are allowed to exist.
So, she set her seven sons to hunt down the marked, and to snuff out any light that could be used to attract… the worse things.
The first son was called Evil. And like all evil, he was born from ignorance. Or maybe from knowledge. There really isn't much of a difference, you see. But still, Evil was born from the memories of the Mother of Wolves. What happened was that she saw something, that was better left forgotten, and later shared that cursed knowledge with the world.
Evil began to stalk the world, ever since that day. It took the shape of a dark wind, that blew every time a cruel action was planned. It stalked the world as a malicious thought, infecting minds like a disease.
The second son… the second wolf, was called Paranoia-
*CLICK*
You nearly jump out of your skin as a metallic sound comes from somewhere behind you. You and Octavia pivot on the couch, as you turn to face the entrance door.
Long, dreadful moments pass as you hear
something manipulating the door, and your mind immediately conjures up the idea that the wolves are doing it. That they have finally broken whatever magics the Witch had placed that kept the door safe, and that they were about to break it down and kill you all.
Your tension finally reaches a peak when a final clicking sound comes from the door.
And it unlocks and opens right after. With a tall, disgruntled and slightly old lady walking into the Witch's house.
"Glory's eaten light, I swear that all the wolves in the damned world were out there and…"
She walks into the house and closes the door behind herself.
And only then does she notice you and your sister.
A chill runs down your spine, as you look into the lady's eyes. Because as you look into her eyes… you realize that there is soft
light coming from them.
And as you turn back towards the rest of the house, and look towards the cauldron where the Lantern With was making soup but a moment ago…
You don't see anyone. The cauldron is still bubbling, the fire underneath it is still lit, and the long stirring spoon is still there, dangling as if it was still being pushed a few seconds ago.
But of the one you
thought was the Lantern Witch, you see no sign.
"What… are you doing here?" the bright-eyed lady, the
real Lantern Witch, asks, her posture as alert as your own.
"Oh, did you also come to ask for help from Mrs. Witch?" your sister innocently asks, not having really caught up to what just happened. "Wait, where did the Witch go? Septimus, did you see where she go? She was here just now!"
You stay where you are, keeping a tight grip on your sister, not exactly sure of what… of
why any of this just happened.
And the lady, in turn, slowly begins to walk past you and your sister, heading towards the bubbling cauldron with the good-smelling soup.
She looks at the cauldron, and then at you, and then at the two pots that are on the nearby table.
And finally, she looks at one particular flask that is by the cauldron. A flask with a black-painted label, with a symbol that you can't quite recognize from where you are. A flask that you are not entirely sure if it was used as an ingredient in the soup or not.
Although, from the way that she is staring at the flask, with a mixture of surprise and disgust, you begin to form the slight impression that the flask contains…
"Did… have you two eaten from this?" she asks, very carefully.
"Anything at all, even if it was just a spoonful?"
Your sister shakes her head, and you follow suit a few moments later, albeit much more slowly.
"… good," is all she says.
And without another word, she closes the cauldron with a lid, making sure that it is tightly sealed before she turns back to the two of you.
"Well then," she says, looking at your sister and then giving you a meaningful look,
"there is another way to deal with your sister's predicament. But you are not going to like it."
And then, the Lantern Witch told you and your sister a harsh truth. She told you a harsh truth, and then she gave you a choice. And even though that choice was better than the wolves, it was still something that you wish you didn't have to do.
