In the swamp, there lived a kiokote without a name. She didn't have a name because, long ago, it was eaten. If you were born with a naming dream you might think is this a terrible curse, but the totoma manage just fine, don't they?And the stubbornly-nameless doe
was
fine.
In her new life, not the one after her name was eaten, but the one after the Other that consumed it broke faith with her, she tried to keep busy. The kiokote was a creature of habit, striving every day to rise with the sun. She strove every day, to make the little trek down the trail to check on her kitchen garden, to gather and dry grasses and herbs for bedding, medicine, and, well. It's important to be prepared for anything. So while there was no emergency, no quest, and no kin particularly-in-need-of-her-help, there was still the familiar rhythm of Work To Be Done.
And despite all that, she still wasn't prepared for today's visitor.