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16 - Submission

I love you.

And, like darkness that swarmed the lands, like the fire that can reduce anything to ashes, like barrels of waves smashing driftwood against the rocks, she felt like it was the end of the bloody world. It was only that morning when she woke up without him by her side that she realized what she had done.

Her vision began to take a shade of black and gray. And from a distance, a muffled voice managed to shake Snow from her thoughts.

The elder spoke as the crowd stood in attention.

"I give you, your victors."

Drums. Howls. Hands out stretched.

Snow did not know what to do with the brewing energy from their spectators.

Underneath Burnwood flag, were wolves stripped of their upper clothing. Each man revealed dark pigments drawn on their backs, arms and chest. The lines of black formed geometrical figures. The markings against their skin branched up their faces.

And, Torryn was nowhere in sight.

"We shall begin with the offering of gifts," the elder spoke.

The crowd howled as Everett came forth.

They wore black leather in layers of dark tunic, bearing mahogany crates on their arms. Each chest lay open as they stood before them. Snow peaked through the slabs of wood and saw weapons of steal; spears, knives, traps, cross bows, enough to spark a small rebellion.

The task proved to be helpful as her thought drifted elsewhere. She began to breathe and her legs managed to bring he closer to the crates.

Damien flashed a grin as she saw him. Snow smiled beneath the growing pain on her chest. He came before her.

"For the great huntress," he bowed before her, Snow could only smile. Her lips where coy, lifting the corners of her bland grin against her stiffened cheeks. He held out his hand to one of his men. The wolf scrambled to one of the crates and handed Damien the weapon.

Snow's eyed widened as the bow made of solid metal was presented before her.

Her hands took it as Damien urged the present to her. Snow wasn't trembling as she studied the remarkable marksmanship on the weapon.

"It's a recent discovery, Aluminum alloy," Damien spoke, "The body is hollow making it light. The limbs are stronger, more flexible which gives you more power. Well, more power with the right arrows."

Damien led Snow to a crate full of metal arrows of different sizes and kinds. Her eyes feasted on metal arrow heads of different shapes and arrow shafts of different length and diameter.

"They're beautiful," Snow bowed before him as she held the bow. It was surprisingly light for its size. Her spirits lit up. She could not wait to hunt with it.

The Wolframs followed carrying woven baskets of smoked meat, loaves of aged sour bread, and wheel of fermented cheese. Barrels of rum rolled before them as Snow felt her chest become light. The coldness of her fingers was replaced with warmth as she sat the metal bow down.

"How the heavens are we to carry this back home?" Margaux snagged a remark.

The women glanced at each other. Snow's shoulder bobbed in suppressed giggles as her sisters followed.

"We need about," Lais added, "Three or four carriages?"

Snow bit her lip as she placed her fingers on her lips. The rest of her sisters grinned, snorting as Snow hid her face in her hand. She was about to give in to laughter when she heard her sisters grow silent.