Mokosh was in despair. The image of Praboh, man, and her own image, woman, were being torn asunder, and there was nothing that she could do about it. After all, she was trapped in the Underworld.

Veles was also suffering, as he had been betrayed by the Horrors and Žmij. Anything born out of jealousy and ire was wild and impossible to tame, and as such, only faithful to its own desires. Such was the bitter lesson that Veles came to learn: and at the price of countless human lives!

Mokosh observed that Veles’s strength dwindled, yet she did not understand why. She could not know that he tore his heart apart, and it was that which was making him falter. Even though she pitied Veles and was grateful for his many gifts, she did not love him as she had once loved Praboh. Nonetheless, she decided that since Veles was born out of the desire for love, by satisfying his lust, maybe she could fill him with might afresh.

So she lay with him and gave herself up to him, and he drank her all in like the sands of the desert drink the pouring water of a raging storm.