The grief washed over Mary and she whimpered in the man’s arms. Then, the image changed again, and she saw the woman’s children, and her children�...�s children. Finally, she saw her own mother holding her, newborn and sleeping. Then, Mary thought she understood.The images stopped, and the man - the selk - removed his mouth from her shoulder. His hand came to rest on her chest between her breasts. Then, he looked into her eyes, his still that otherworldly luminous white, and he said, “Mine.”Mary. This time, he was hairier – all over; and more grotesque. His hands, indeed all his limbs seemed bent out of shape and he was more like an animal than ever before. Even so, I tried to reason with him.“Please,” I pleaded, “If you ARE my brother, you don’t want to hurt me, surely? I saved you, remember? From the Man o’ War.”He grunted, his hot breath hitting my face. “Perhaps this is what you really want from me,” he seethed, “or at least, no less than you deserve!”As he stood astride me, his. More

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