Tva was returning from his first godly gathering when he sensed something was amiss. No rabbits were about, and the glades were unusually silent, as if all of the animals therein could sense that something was wrong.

He stepped softly, eyeing his surroundings, trying to identify the source of the disturbance. One of his acolyte children approached in a crouched posture, belly to the ground, twisting her head up to lick Tva’s muzzle in deference, whining a greeting, conveying her discomfort and relief at Tva’s return. ‘What is it?’ Tva asked her, on guard. His daughter whined again, turning to lead Tva to the source of the disturbance. Tva followed.

The wolf led him to a great tree, a massive thing, its dark bark whorled with heavy knots, twisted and warped, ominous. Three others of his children were circling the tree, their concern and agitation evident. A’gia was missing, Tva thought, alarm rising as he approached. His wolf guide led him to a small opening in the tree’s base. The scent of blood became stronger the closer he came, intermixed with the heavy loamy smell of the soil, combining to form something dark and foreboding. A rustling came from the hollow, the sound of a wolf shuffling amongst old leaves.

‘A’gia,’ Tva said gently, calling his firstborn. ‘What is wrong? Come out, I will help you.’ He couldn’t bear to lose A’gia too, no matter the cost, no matter how she had been hurt, he would heal her, his magnetic fields now developed enough to stimulate cell growth, he could heal her, he just knew it. A’gia let loose a whine from within the darkness, a sobbing sound he didn’t know wolves to be capable of making. Tva stepped forward, peering into the shadows. A’gia curled up tighter in the gloom. ‘A’gia’ he said firmly, a hint of godhood in his voice, ‘come out.’

Slowly, so slowly, she unwound her limbs from their cramped arrangement, extricating herself from the shadows. She emerged from the hollow, blood on her muzzle, but unharmed as far as Tva could see, to his relief. Perhaps it was just a scratch, he wondered, though the amount of blood would counter that hypothesis. What could have happened that would drive A’gia to hide away, blood on her fur? A lump of something remained in the shadows of the hollow, the source of the bloody smell, a pert ear perked up from the mass, a soft round tail just barely visible through the gore and gristle.

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The world slowed for Tva, as if time was passing through an hourglass, forced to slow as it flowed between the two ampules through the narrow constricting throat. His own throat grew tight. It couldn’t be. A’gia would never, she was a rabbit! A wolf, now perhaps, but originally she was a rabbit, just like his other acolytes, just like his devotees. She would never harm them, she didn’t even have a prey drive, she cared for them just as much as he did! Perhaps, perhaps it was an accident, he thought wildly, perhaps she had just recovered the remains from one of the birds of prey that snuck through their defenses. He wished he could believe that, wanted so badly for it to be the case. But why else would she hide? One of his children dragged the corpse out from the hollow, placing it in front of a cowed A’gia, her head hung low.

He couldn’t let this go unpunished. He had ignored his reservations before, and this death was now on his head. It was his fault for not teaching his children better the reverence he placed on the lives of his devotees. He summoned his resolve. He had to set an example, or the others might be tempted as well.

His firstborn, his precious daughter A’gia, whom he loved the most. His heart hurt, ached in his chest, for what he had to do. Without warning he lunged, ripping out her throat, her blood thick and hot in his mouth, like sacrilege. She whimpered, gurgled, stumbled to the ground, her blood spurting into the dirt, soaking it. He was shamefully glad the ground was dark here, that he couldn’t see the brilliant reds like when his brother’s blood drenched the snow.

He had broken his vows. Had taken another life, killed another precious to him, this time with intent, with purpose. A promise breaker, that was what he was. He wasn’t fit to be anyone’s god. He was so dirty.

His other children churned, even more disturbed than before, alarmed at the rapid turn of events. Their yips and growls went unheeded, as he sat drenched in the blood of his kin, once again. But this time he couldn’t run away. He had to set a precedent, to be firm in his will, or A’gia death would be meaningless, and he wouldn’t do that to her memory. His beloved daughter.

‘Even A’gia is not exempt from the price of betraying our faith.’ He growled, his voice rumbling, shaking the trees, quieting the assembled. They bowed their heads, acquiescing to his will.