The crowd expanded before her and around the council. She was the Earth, and the stars and the Sun gravitated around her. Masha nodded respectfully at her elders, but from their serious expressions, she knew they were aware of her new privileged status, which put her above all the rest—even them.

“Nadia has perished?”

Masha scoffed and lifted her chin, gripping the bloody axe tighter. Everyone's eyes went to the threatening weapon, except hers. She had a duty now, a status to preserve...and honour for Babushka.

“‘She was… raped and killed’ is what I said, Chieftain.”

The tribe leader, an old woman with dark grey hair, an elongated face and sober outfits, nodded in silence.

“I see…”

Whispers rose around them. Yet she heard something else, more subtle... more intense. Was it the rustle of branches?

Masha slowly turned her head and there was poor, demonic Anastasia, far off near the woods. She was almost bouncing feet to feet, grabbing her mama's skinny arm. They were both a pitiful sight, but Anastasia's intent, hopeful gaze on her made her blood curl as well as her lips. A child born of a dormant wolf... An abomination.No wonder they were poor; they were barely insiders anymore. What a shame the mother suffered by association. Yet, she made her choice: her daughter against the world.

As they exchanged a gaze, Masha could hear inner whispers of a girl's voice inside her own head, wishing for... What for? But before she could make it out, the leader pulled her out of this light trance with her soprano and clear voice.

“The Wolf is dead?”

Masha's head snapped back to the leader, and she smirked smugly, a shadow crossing her face under the village's torches.

“As dead as I’m breathing.”

“Good.”

The leader, Annika, acknowledged her feat with a curt nod, then turned to her council. They all approved, and when she faced Masha, she already knew what she would say.

“May you prosper as the Novgorod tribe’s newly appointed Huntress. May the cries of injustice guide your steps, and may you strike justice in our foes.”

The villagers repeated the traditional chant twice for the Huntress as she puffed up her chest with pride and a sense of righteousness, glory, and legacy to honor. Yet, the death of her Babushka haunted the corners of her heart, like dark, wolfish claws…

The leader gave her a lopsided smile.

“You know how the story goes: the Huntress lives alone in the woods. And protects everyone equally. You have no family now: the whole village is your family.”

Masha's lips quivered as the emotions she was bottling up tried to spill over. She gulped and stiffened her posture. With one last look at her mother, with her hands over her mouth and her clear blue eyes shining with tears, she was humbled and felt her world crumbling under her feet. She not only lost Babushka, but her mother, too. Everyone relied on her now... but she was left alone. The village gained a Huntress, but Masha lost everything.

Because of a Wolf who stole it all from her.

Fury burned bright and fierce in her guts, making the cold winter night almost too warm.

Yet, she gripped the axe handle harder, and controlled herself.

“Should we proceed with the ritual?” Masha asked through gritted teeth.

She'd been told the inheritance story over and over during her youth, but now she had to live through it.

Burying her beloved grandmother wasn't going to be easy.

But living without her from now on seemed impossible. This heavy reality tore right through her heart more than any Wolf ever could.

No Babushka, no mother, no family... She felt like she'd lost her way.

Yet, she could hear all those howls resounding all around in her head and soul.

And she vowed to take down all those big bad wolves one by one to the last, friend or foe.

Mercy for no one.