"I didn't hand it to you, you grabbed it—"
"You let me PICK IT UP—"
"I tried to stop you! I said don't! I literally said don't!"
"You said don't like a normal don't, not a,don't, that's the tooth my brother gave me after we—" She makes a gesture. A bad gesture. Both hands. "—don't!"
"Well now you know!"
"NOW I KNOW."
We stare at each other across the worktable. Her hand still hovering away from her body like the tooth-touch is going to crawl up her arm.
I put my face in my hands. My hands smell like crushed moonbright. My face will too now. Wonderful.
"...I'm so sorry," I say into my palms.
"Mel."
"I'm so sorry, Kestria, I should have—"
"Mel."
"—warned you, or moved it, or—"
"Mel."
"What."
She's still standing three steps back. But her hand is coming down. Slow. Her eyes are on me now, not the tooth.
"He gave you a tooth."
"...yeah."
"He—" She stops. Her face does something. The wolf-sister underneath the horrified-friend doing math. "He pulled out his own tooth and gave it to you."
"...yeah."
"Mel."
"I know."
"Mel."
"I know, Kestria."
She breathes in. Slow. Her nostrils flare. I watch her process whatever she's pulling out of the air.
"Mel."
"What."
She breathes in again. Shorter. Sharper.
"That's not just—" She stops. Tries again. "That's—there's blood. Under everything. Under yours, Mel. Old blood. Set blood. Why is there—"
She stops.
