‘He was from another mountain,’ Alannah says. ‘His soft voice, his hands, his veiny cock, balls on him like a sagging pouch of wine. Yes, I loved him, but very momentarily. He stuck too close to me, and I grew suffocated by his presence. He was so empty, even his breathing annoyed me. His voice was like crows to me, and my love for him faded. Still I am grateful to him for he did not reduce me. I was left without disease, without pregnancy.’

‘Why are you telling me about this?’ Raghnailt says.

‘His voice began to drive me crazy,’ she says. ‘He was a weight on my throat, a restriction on my breathing. He followed me everywhere. I saw stars, my blood felt too hot. I was unable to sleep he vexed me so much. Do you think two people can live together? Perhaps four, or eight or twenty, yes, but not two?’

‘You’re not making any sense,’ Raghnailt says.

‘I left the most part of myself behind when I came here,’ she says. ‘I gave up my past and myself, but what is that to a cousin, a sister, an uncle, a clan? They asked me, and I came; now they ask, and I return.’

‘You are ours now,’ Raghnailt says. ‘You are my daughter.’

Alannah turns, and goes back to Raghnailt. She holds her hands. ‘I have been called back,’ she answers.

‘I need you.’

‘You would not understand,’ she says. ‘I am as different from you as a wolf. You are but a foreigner here, and this land you dally on is not yours to keep.’

Raghnailt pushes her hands away. ‘I am sick of your veiled words,’ she says. ‘You make yourself distant on purpose, more unknowable than you really are. It is an act of obfuscation to justify yourselves, to make yourselves seem different from us because you do not like us. You Gaels just love yourselves too much; I cannot stand it. It is fake, I know it. You spend your days discussing your little differences from us, as though they were real, and they are not. You are not magic, you are not mysterious, and you are not different. You have made yourselves up. It’s all lies, and it is so conceited. There is nothing that could not be understood if you spoke openly and plainly.’

Alannah brushes Raghnailt’s cheek, and embraces her. ‘You are so sweet, so good,’ Alannah says. ‘Just like a woman, believing words are tools that can shape people, that if there are enough of them in the right place you could pile them on top of one another and build something good. You are so good it makes my heart burst with it. I love you for it.’

Raghnailt pushes her away again. ‘Get away from me,’ she says. ‘I am not some silly old woman you can coddle. You are my daughter, and you should respect me.’