It was cold, and the sun did not show its face in the sky. The wind rattled the bone bare trees, making moaning, howling shrieks outside the ulaq. The little animals who did not curl in their holes bounded through the snow, watched by the bigger animals that thought them food.
And, inside, warm and bundled, Vairë jerked from her nap with a short noise, stifled into a snort. Her head rose, fur smashed up an odd way on the side she’d been laying on, and she cast a glance outside the ulaq. She was bored, almost to tears, but she knew the importance of healing fully, less she be in suboptimal conditions during the leanest months. But she couldn’t help it, the wanton urge to move and escape the den she lay curled up in. Her shuffle upwards was almost quiet, and it was incredibly slowly that she stuck out her nose, followed by her snout, up to her eyes.
Back and forth went her head, seeking any white furred health prison wardens or the like, before she slowly, very slowly, lifted a paw to place outside the ulaq.
but her anaa was there.
"kigik, paniga." her voice held love but also firmness.
the deer-child must heal.
the winter went on.
kukutux settled herself close and began to chew elk-leather, pausing only to say, "while you lay here, have the spirits spoken to you?"
She couldn’t help her wince as the knowing voice rolled over her ears. The doe was pinned in place, a bug on a wall, before she gave a low sigh, dropping to her belly in the mouth of the ulaq.
If she could not go outside, she would at least like to feel the wind.
I…Maybe?
Came her gentle reply as she rolled to face moonwoman.
I wish to be a hunter. I told taataa I would become one by the time the next winter snows fall in a years time. And..
Her voice died, anxiety like a fluttering bird in her chest.
When I am healed. I would like to be eligible to be wed, should you find the proper husband for me.
Her eyes found her paws.
I am the last of Lotë’s blood still living in the village. I won’t let my line end with me.
It was a pressure, self imposed, but there all the same, thundering along with her heart.
the time had come.
kukutux looked at the girl who was no longer a child but woman.
another daughter of moonglow.
another of her gone sister.
moonwoman pulled closer; she set down her leather and sought the eyes of the younger woman. "do you seek a husband only for the name of your mother? or is it also for yourself, vairë?"
she must know that this too was the doe-dancer's want.
For a time, she was only quiet. Unsure, her tongue laden with rocks and words unsaid. Lotë was gone, so it felt, and Vairë knew this.
She knew of the seasons, the wind, the deer and their high, snorting laughter. She knew of autumn leaves and summer sun and the spirits and faith that ran through their village so deeply. She knew the cold times and the warm ones and the scent of new birth on the breeze. She knew how time would change, how the sun curved across the sky every day and the moon followed. Vairë was nearly two years into existence, whatever cursed one she’d led to be carved like a prey animal for eating, she knew many things.
This? This she could not answer right away. The silence stretched, aching in every second, before the doe would draw in a gasping breath.
I..I want this for me. And in my mother’s name. Both. I want to know a man who will be there, who is dignified enough to not bring destruction, but brazen enough to not think it childish to play sometimes. Who watches the stars, but is not so focused he loses touch with the ground. Someone to love and who will love in return.
She had grown up watching Kukutux and Aiolos, and now she watched Rodyn and Samani. The outsider girl with the deer soul, who could not stay her feet, to the grown woman with the heart of a doe, who did not flinch when looking at her future.
And Vairë knew that. Her future was here.
vairë spoke as a woman would.
she had been on her travels. she had come back marked. she had made this her home.
now she spoke of her mother's blood and that made such a village.
kukutux saw that she was ready, perhaps more than samani.
vairë spoke of the husband she wanted. the duck listened in a respectful quiet.
"rodyn brought a bride price for samani. but he had a year to do so. your time will come before a cycle of moons."
she looked lovingly at her daughter. "tell me what you want as bride-price. what will show your heart that a man will be devoted?"
This was a question she knew would come.
She had little time, but this would count. This would come. She needed to only think for a second.
The pelt of a doe. And the antler of a stag, more than five points.
Deer had always been in her heart and her soul. Her husband to be had to understand such a thing.
Old doe and wolf were in agreement. This would be done.
again the doe-woman spoke with confidence.
kukutux nodded. "it will be so. i will first go and gather names. then i will tell you of the men i have found. if your ear hears something that you enjoy, i will arrange a meeting."
but there was no obligation to choose. many times a girl might meet a boy and decide otherwise.
"rest, daughter." moonwoman kissed the soft forehead. "set your mind upon healing and the face of this man. the spirits will bring you dreams."
Kukutux kissed Vairë’s forehead, and the doe smiled softly, her tail patting the ground in a happy rhythm.
Thank you, anaa.
She murmured, satisfaction settling into her heart like a cat beside a hearth. With that, she would sit her head upon her paws, content to watch the snow outside until her eyes fell closed.