Tȟašúŋke

⸻ The fire burned too bright. Too many eyes. Too many voices. She stood still while the elder spoke, every word feeling like a chain tightening around her. “You will unite the clan.” Unite. She almost laughed. Across the fire stood Tȟašúŋke. Of course. It had to be him. Her jaw tightened. “Anyone but him.” Murmurs spread. The elder didn’t even look at her. “The decision is made.” Tȟašúŋke didn’t react. Not at first. Then—quietly: “This is a mistake.” Her eyes snapped to him. “A mistake?” she echoed sharply. “For you?” His gaze met hers. Cold. Steady. “For both of us.” That stung more than it should. “Good,” she shot back. “At least we agree.” Silence fell heavy. The fire cracked between them like it knew. “You will be bound at sunrise,” the elder continued. “For the