Deer-Head Tattoo

He felt as if he'd been hollowed out. Looking utterly drained, Kas stood beside the bed and watched Seneya, her cheeks glowing, pull on a linen undershirt and leather coat.

That female bandit was like a beast. Her little waist was more fearsome than a python's, and while big Kas was still conscious, she'd managed to wring little Kas dry too.

Fresh and invigorated, Seneya draped a bearskin cloak over Kas's shoulders, then clapped her hands, thoroughly pleased with the outfit she'd chosen for her husband.

"Our daughter should be awake by now. I hope Ancestor hasn't been filling her head with anything else strange. She's just a girl. Why keep telling her about the clan's honor?"

Kas still didn't know how to respond. Deep down, he knew this was a dream, but he had no idea how to escape it.

He watched Seneya comb her long hair in front of the mirror, then considered his words before speaking:

"Seneya, there's something I want to tell you."

"Go ahead. But if you're going to say you're joining this year's raid south and leaving your daughter and me here to suffer in the tribe, don't bother."

"I think I might be dreaming."

"Of course you are. You went through heaven knows what to lift the curse on a terrifying werewolf, who turned out to be such a gorgeous woman she made your eyes pop out. She does your laundry, cooks for you, takes care of the housework, and even gave birth to the cutest, most sensible daughter ever. Anyone would think they were dreaming."

Seneya sounded disdainful, but the happiness hidden in her words filled the little house.

"I mean, you—all of this—is a dream."

She turned around, her face full of displeasure. "Eat any more mushrooms, and I'll crush your head between my legs."

Getting crushed between those long legs... That covered the upsides. What were the downsides?

Kas grumbled to himself:

"I mean, I don't remember anything after leaving the Black Ember Tribe. Anything after we met Nosa."

Seneya didn't seem to care about that. As if she'd just remembered something, she said, "Oh, speaking of Nosa, she said earlier that she was taking Luna to play with Angeli. They all adore Luna."

What?

Kas's mind went blank. Never mind how Luna, who was clearly the name of a battle-axe, had somehow become his daughter—how could Nosa still be alive?

"Wasn't Nosa dead?"

"Eat fewer mushrooms!" Seneya rolled her eyes, seeming to think her husband was getting stranger by the day. She walked up to Kas and said, perfectly serious, "If you keep eating mushrooms and pretending to be clueless in front of me, I'll tell everyone your nickname is Werewolf Riser!"

Werewolf Riser...

Kas felt a chill run through him. Did that mean... Seneya had screwed me while she was in werewolf form?

Remembering how rough the female bandit had been just now, he figured it was entirely possible.

"I'm serious. I might be trapped in Lady of Death's dream. Back on Iron Peak Mountain..."

Seneya gave a few impatient grunts, apparently thinking her husband's rambling was about to turn into one of Hadi's abstract monologues.

"I'm going to make breakfast for Luna. She's always complaining that my cooking is bad. This time, I'll make her see that no one loves her more than her mother!"

Clenching her fists, she cheered herself on, paying no attention to the dazed, wide-eyed look Kas gave her as she walked out of their cozy little house.

Kas paused, rubbing his cheek and chin, both swollen and red from Seneya's bites. He was still bewildered.

What kind of dream could turn a goofy, clumsy werewolf into a gorgeous woman?

And not just any gorgeous woman—this one was a lovesick fool whose eyes turned into hearts, practically eager to devour him whole.

He walked over to the mirror. According to some strange rumors, mirrors reflected the world, so if you were trapped in an illusion and couldn't tell, you should look for bugs in the mirror.

He touched the deer-antler battle markings, rose-shaped, stretching from his forehead to his temples. Nothing wrong there.

They were a pattern unique to warriors of the Zagwell Clan. Judging by the technique, the Great Shaman had tattooed them herself; otherwise, they wouldn't have looked so abstract.

He ran his fingers through his hair. A little greasy. Probably hadn't washed it in a while... Never mind.

A half-length reddish-brown beard covered his chin. Seneya had bitten off quite a few hairs, but it was still thick, combining with his orange-red hair to form a proud blaze.

Not bad-looking. I should definitely grow a beard from now on.

He tugged at his collar and studied the tattoo that ran from his left shoulder to his elbow, bare-chested. Kas thought it looked a little strange.

In Reshman society, tattoos were important symbols of status. There were three main types.

First, guardian-spirit tattoos. People chose a guardian spirit based on their faith and their tribe or clan's traditions, then had it tattooed on the most visible part of the shoulder.

Those who worshipped Lady of Death had a raven clutching an eyeball tattooed on their shoulders, while Pierce had a fierce hound.

The people of Her Tribe usually chose the Ancient Oak, a sacred symbol that had stood for thousands of years. It was said to grant great vitality and physical strength.

But the tattoo on his shoulder was neither the Ancient Oak nor the Zagwell Clan's Golden-Branch Giant Antlered Deer totem. It was a monstrous deer skull with red eyes.

Wendigo? What the hell? Was there even such a thing in the Sorrow Mountains?

Second, status tattoos, also known as nickname tattoos. Warriors had abstract designs of battle-axes, knives, or swords carved into the outer side of their arms; hunters had arrows and bows, and poets had bone flutes.

Nickname tattoos were built around a person's status. A Dragonslayer had a battle-axe cleaving a dragon's head, while an Eagle Eye had a sharp eye added to the front of his bow.

But what was mine? An oak and a battle-axe? The oak must've been tattooed in the wrong place.

Third, commemorative tattoos. They represented what someone wanted to remember, such as a parent's or lover's name, or a phrase that had left a lasting impression, tattooed on the inside of the arm.

Oathbound warriors tattooed themselves with vows they had to keep. For example, those who worshipped Pierce usually chose "Fear Nothing," while followers of Fate Crone chose "Born Bound."

A full moon and a new moon... Did those stand for Seneya and Luna?

As he muttered about how wrong the tattoos seemed, he heard hurried, faint footsteps coming from outside the door.

He had just pulled his shirt back on and turned when a little girl with short gray hair and bright blue eyes came running toward him. She wore an unstarched linen dress and grinned, showing a few missing baby teeth.

"Dad! Why are you still sleepy?"

The moment he saw Luna, Kas felt something strange—a blood-deep connection that struck straight at his soul.

Though he knew it was a dream, his body's first reaction was to bend down and pick his "daughter" up.

Luna pushed his bearded face away with a disgusted look. "Dad, you promised you'd shave. Every time you rub your face against mine, it's so scratchy."

Kas looked silently into those nearly identical icy-blue eyes. He had a feeling.

This girl he'd just met was the continuation of his life, a precious treasure who would inherit his land, reputation, and salt.

He gazed into Luna's lively eyes, and his heart suddenly softened.

Fine, fine. If this was a dream, then let me enjoy having a complete family for a while before I figure out how to leave.

He settled Luna in the crook of his arm and rubbed his bearded chin against her tender cheek. "Next time, for sure. But I'm rubbing you now!"

"Waaah!" Luna pounded her unreliable father, then rubbed her reddened cheek with a look of disgust and puffed out her cheeks.

"Even though Mom's cooking is awful, I still like her a little more. I hate you the most."