Sea sick, soul sick,

She feels the pull of sin and resists.

Her family dishonored, 

Her traditions disrespected.

How can She not hate Him as He takes 

the last gift from Her mother's orchard?

He takes, 

and takes, 

mocking Her ways and forcing His.

He flaunts disregarding Her modesty, 

He smiles as He scars Her face, 

Proud of the harm He does Her,

Arrogant that His ways are the Moon's ways.

A line in flesh, made for Her Tears to follow.

Red blood staining white fur proclaiming 

She belongs to the Far North now, 

She belongs to Him.